Okay, NOW Panic!
by boz4PM
Summary: This is the sequel to Don't Panic! We follow Penny as she journeys with Elrond and Arwen south to Minas Tirith, via Lothlorien and Edoras. She thought Bree and Imladris were bad? She ain't seen nothing yet.
1. Dulce et Decorum Est

**"Okay, NOW Panic!"**

an LOTR fanfic by Boz4PM

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing other than Penny – someone has to (poor woman) – and also any other OFCs or OMCs that may appear. The rest all belong to JRRT ("The Great Man Whose Boots We Are Not Fit To Lick"). I trust that, as a consequence of this fic, he will merely maintain the gentle rotation he was thrown into by 'Don't Panic!' rather than start on an all-out spin cycle. grin

**Author's Note:** This is the sequel to "Don't Panic!" a fic in which Penelope Baker (a twenty-four year old Tolkien fan who works in marketing) wakes up in her pyjamas a few miles west of Bree and is then faced with all the horrors of what it was REALLY like to live six thousand years ago in Middle- earth (latrines of doom being possibly amongst the worst of them).

She is rescued by Halbarad, dour Ranger of the North, and taken by him to Imladris to see Elrond due to the clear knowledge she has of things she should not know, as well as her bizarre and extreme behaviour as she battles with her own sanity while she slowly comes to the realisation of just where she actually is. Once in Rivendell, arriving only a day or two before the Council of Elrond, she is questioned and, with much difficulty and Gandalf's help, manages to explain who she is, where she has come from and how she knows of them all and their futures.

She then has to acquire a new language and new skills, and learn to fit in, all the while knowing full well of the impending war, of the death of Boromir and, worse still, the death of Halbarad. He has become her friend and slowly begins to look on her as a daughter, promising himself that he will protect her and look after her once the war is over.

At the end of "Don't Panic!" despite trying to persuade Elrond not to send Halbarad south to Rohan, Penny watches Halbarad ride out of Imladris, holding the banner of the King that Arwen has made for Aragorn.

She knows that she will never see him again.

Now the story continues...

Warning for this chapter only: since it is a battle scene, there WILL be depictions of violence and bloodshed ahead. Nothing overly graphic but, don't forget, this is a few thousand warriors hitting each other with very sharp swords... it's not pretty.

_Edit, Feb 6th 2008: By popular request I have made a Character List for both this and the prequel (Don't Panic). Should you ever need it, you can find it here: http://boz4pm(dot)livejournal(dot)com/268905(dot)html. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 1** _- "Dulce et Decorum Est..."_

_  
"'This is an evil door,' said Halbarad, 'and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless;...'" - _'The Passing of the Grey Company,' The Return of the King._  
_

Even as their ships had neared the northern bank of the Anduin and the quay of Harlond, the Dûnedain had seen the smoke, the carnage, and the horror. Through the gaps in the walls of the shattered Rammas Ecchor, they could make out the northern half of the Pelennor, beyond the battle, already littered with the bodies of the slain, mumakîl carcasses, and burning tents and siege engines. The air was acrid with smoke, death and fear.

Smoke was also rising from various points within the walls of Minas Tirith. The earlier rain had put out the fires in the city but the damage the fires had caused was visible from afar. The siege-engines, the piles of dead outside the walls, the massive gates smashed, splintered and burnt, were clear enough for the keen-sighted amongst those on the boats, even from the river.

The battle was in full swing as they came down the ramps from the ships onto the quayside, many of the men aboard not waiting to disembark but leaping directly onto the stone surface of the quay.

As they hastened towards the great southern gate in the Rammas, Halbarad, bearing the standard aloft for all to see, was riding behind Aragorn. To one side of him rode Elrond's sons, stars upon their brows and fury in their gaze, while to his other side was Legolas, bow already notched and face grim, with Gimli sitting behind him, axe in hand.

Behind them came Halbarad's three sons: Halladan, Hirvell and Arvain. They were tall and proud, their faces as stern and dour as their father's own. They rode with the remaining Dûnedain, most of whom had set out from Rivendell, but several others among them who, like Halbarad's sons, had joined them further south.

Every one of the Dûnedain was a man of stature, strength, courage and nobility of the quality of Halbarad. It was clear in their faces and bearing, as Theoden King himself had seen and commented upon at Helm's Deep. Just the sight of them alone had been enough to convince the slaves on the ships to offer themselves, now as free men, to row them all upstream.

As Aragorn, roaring and bearing the reforged sword aloft, swept north from the river the Dûnedain and assembled peoples of Southern Gondor followed in his wake. At the same time Prince Imrahil charged from the west with the Gondorian forces and Eomer King led the Rohirrim from the north.

The enemy, caught suddenly on three sides, barely knew what hit them.

Near half the enemy's army had already been eliminated by the Rohirric charge led by Theoden King. The subsequent death of the Witchking had left the remaining enemy troops dismayed and uncertain. The sight of Aragorn, tall and terrible, now sweeping down on them like some Valar-sent vengeance, near sent them mad with terror.

They would go down fighting, though.

The sound was indescribably loud: a near-deafening combination of the clang and clash of metal, the trumpeting of mumakîl, the roars and shouts of orcs and men, the screams of the wounded and dying, the maimed and the mauled.

There was no time to think, only react instinctively. Falter for an instant and your life was over, cleaved from you by the savage blow of axe, sword or spear.

Halladan, Halbarad's eldest son, became separated from his father in the melee after a few hours. Up till then the Dûnedain had managed to stay relatively near to each other, carving a path through the Southrons and Easterlings that made up the large part of the remaining enemy army. As standard-bearer, Halbarad stayed close to Aragorn, with his sons staying close beside him to protect both king and standard-bearer at all costs.

Then a mûmak, maddened by pain and fear, had run amok nearby, scattering those in its path and crushing underfoot many who were not quick enough. Halladan was forced to dodge the animal, even while keeping his horse under control, while his father and brothers veered their steeds the other way. Thickset, bearded Easterlings with axes, scarlet-clad Haradrim and more orcs than he had ever seen in his life before then surrounded Halladan and those with him. He spent the next hour or two of the battle trying to hack his way back towards the standard, still born aloft one-handed by his father.

Looking up at one point, though unable to see Halbarad, he could make out the standard blowing in the south-westerly breeze as the battle raged round it. Then, just for an instant, the fighting cleared and he could see the long pole, as tall as a spear, being held by his father astride his horse as he cut down his enemies who surrounded him time and again, a group of stout-hearted warriors around him – some still on horseback, others now on foot. Bodies covered the area in front of them: friend and foe alike.

Unlike many others, Halladan managed to keep his horse and was riding across the bodies of his enemies as he fought. The animal's legs were caked in their blood. He had managed to keep a small company of five or so Dûnedain with him, and together they were fighting their way back towards where they could see Aragorn with Halbarad nearby him. The Star of Isildur flashed in the sun upon Aragorn's brow, but Anduril burned even brighter in his hand as he gave the enemy no quarter.

As Halladan and those with him made their way, besides negotiating the flashing, slicing steel around them, there was also the ever-present danger in the battle-field of the mumakîl which would terrify the horses and, when wounded, run berserk, crushing anyone or anything in their path. Still worse were the burning remains of siege engines or tents that could topple over without warning, catching many beneath their flames. There were also the burning remains of barns and houses that were equally liable to sudden collapse. The heat and stench of smoke and blood filled the nostrils till it was all Halladan could do to keep his head from reeling.

Suddenly, Halladan met Aragorn on the field, the man looking more proud and noble than Halladan could ever remember seeing him. Yet they barely had time to acknowledge each other's presence before a great rush of half-trolls and Variags came towards Aragorn.

With a cry of "Dûnedain! To the Heir of Isildur!" Halladan wheeled his horse to place himself between Aragorn and the onslaught, hacking and hewing heads off as the enemy reached him. Aragorn moved beside him, Anduril slashing and biting without mercy, and quickly others joined them both.

In the chaos Halladan was dimly aware of a tall, dark-haired figure standing on the ground beside him, unhorsed, but by the grace of the Valar unharmed: his youngest brother, Arvain.

Arvain risked a grin up at him. Halladan reached out his hand to pull him up into the saddle.

"No, brother," Arvain shouted. "You will have more manoeuvrability with only one rider. Besides," he added, as he ducked a swipe from an Easterling axe, thrusting his sword swiftly into his attacker's stomach from below, "I'm doing well enough down here, I think."

He grinned once more and then, with a roar, launched himself at a group of orc that were aiming for Aragorn.

Halladan shook his head with a grin, but had no time to respond before he heard the shout of a horsed Variag warrior galloping toward him from behind. He turned in time to raise his arm and block the blow whistling towards his head from the man's sword before twisting the blade from the man's grasp and cutting him limb from limb in his own saddle.

He made his way towards his father then, beset on all sides by Haradrim, Variags, Easterlings and half-trolls. As Halladan neatly dispatched enough of them to make a path to his father's side, Halbarad looked up and smiled, grimly.

"Decided to join us at last, I see," his father commented dryly.

Halladan grinned broadly, and the two fell to fighting once more, side by side.

Then it happened.

Halladan and Arvain were fighting close together beside Halbarad, with Hirvell, their third brother, only a little way off, fighting beside Aragorn. Because the standard bearer in any battle was a key target for the enemy, his sons and others had surrounded Halbarad from the beginning, though he was more than skilful enough to fight one-handed.

Many soldiers and orcs had fallen on Halbarad's blade before the enemy realised the only way to bring this standard bearer down was to attack his horse. At their first opportunity, blades no longer sought to strike the legs of Halbarad but that of his steed - and they succeeded. Halbarad's horse was cut down from underneath him. Hamstrung, the animal fell, crushing one of Halbarad's legs beneath its weight. Before Halbarad hit the ground, a Haradrim managed to push past to hew at him as he fell.

Arvain had heard the horse's scream next to him, but had been busy fending off a particularly large Easterling who clearly knew how to use an axe to good effect, and so could not turn. He knew it was bad, though.

Cleaving off the man's head, he turned in time to see Halladan already jumping from his horse to hew the Haradrim to pieces. His father lay, gasping, blood spilling onto the ground around him, one leg trapped underneath his screaming horse.

Even as Halladan picked up the standard, he blocked blow after blow round him. The seven or eight Dûnedain near them quickly formed a circle round him and the fallen Ranger. Arvain ran to them now, his face showing his distress.

"Take this and my horse," Halladan was saying, shoving the standard at him.

"No, I will not leave you!" Arvain shouted.

Halladan flashed him a furious glare, and for a moment Arvain saw his father's expression in his brother's face.

"Do not argue, Arvain, there is no time. Take it. It must be kept high where our men can see it. They must not think the standard has fallen. Do this for Aragorn... for you father."

Still Arvain hesitated. "And you?"

Halladan looked at him. "I will stay here."

There was a cry from their father, and Halladan quickly bent to him. As he did so he shouted over his shoulder to Arvain, "Go! Now! Do not delay!"

Arvain nodded, quickly mounting Halladan's horse, the standard in his hand, and bore it aloft. Immediately he was surrounded by Dûnedain, just as his father had been, as the enemy surged towards him.

Halladan fought to defend his father's body, not knowing if he were still alive or dead, nor having the time to check. The orcs were not the only ones among the enemy with no respect for the dead or dying. Many on the battle-field would not be recognisable to those who once loved them when the battle finally ended.

Halladan lost count of the number he slew. However, he was not left to defend his father alone. Arvain stayed nearby as best he could, and the Dûnedain also helped to protect Halbarad also. The affection the Dûnedain bore Halbarad, as one who was great and noble among a great and noble people, was such that they would have laid down their lives to see that, even if he were already dead, his body was not desecrated.

At last, in the blood-red glow of the setting sun, it was finished. The enemy were routed with the last few of them running to drown or to die of their wounds.

Only now could Hirvell, Halbarad's middle son, find the time to dismount his horse and use the back of an Easterling corpse upon which to wipe clean his sword before the blood caked on it ate into the blade. He had managed to stay close to his father or Aragorn through most of the battle and had only become separated from them only at the last.

He was exhausted, and looking at those round him, knew they were no less weary than he. It had been a hard, long fight, but they had overcome the hordes at last. The euphoria he felt, despite his exhaustion, was huge. Yet he could not smile, nor could any of those with him. For now, as the noise of war abated and the last cries of fighting died out towards the river, the air was filled with groans and faint screams.

Smoke drifted across the gloom. The last few burning buildings collapsed in on themselves with roars and creaking groans, sending sparks far up into the thickening dusk. Already Hirvell could see those who had survived the fight moving among the dead, weeping over those they knew or bringing succour and aid to those who might yet survive their injuries.

Torches were visible now outside Minas Tirith as those in the city came out to help bring the injured back within the walls to be healed, or else make their last hours as comfortable as might be possible. Yet Hirvell knew, with night fast approaching, that many wounded would be missed in the dark and left to die alone and uncared-for.

He remounted his horse and turned it, looking for the king's standard once more. At last he saw it and made his way towards it. As he neared, though, he could make out his youngest brother bearing it now, not his father. He could see Arvain was in urgent discussion with Aragorn, could see him pointing to a spot on the ground nearby, Aragorn looking concerned suddenly, dismounting quickly to hurry to the spot.

His heart in his throat, Hirvell spurred his horse to a gallop, weaving and dodging the fallen and the wounded, leaping over great piles of corpses, burning embers of engines and the head of a mûmak to reach them. As he finally approached his brother, he leapt from the saddle.

"What is it, Arvain?" he said, the concern clear in his voice.

Arvain shook his head. His face was pale with grief. Hirvell now feared the worst.

He walked slowly over to the circle of seven or so Dûnedain, standing silently now round whatever it was Hirvell had seen Arvain indicate to Aragorn. As he neared, the tall, hard-faced warriors moved aside for him. What he saw meant he was not even aware of Arvain by his side handing the standard to someone else to hold.

All he could focus on was the pale figure on the ground, his dead horse lying nearby, having rolled off his leg at last in its death throes. Halladan was crouched beside the figure, his father's hand in his and his arm underneath his back so he was near enough holding Halbarad in his arms.

Aragorn was standing beside them, his face taut with his distress. As Hirvell neared them, his shock written on his face, Aragorn looked up.

Hirvell did not need to ask. The look on Aragorn's face said everything.

Halbarad was still alive, but mortally wounded. Even though Hirvell could not see the wound, the amount of blood around his father, even on Halladan as he held him, told him all he needed to know.

Halbarad was dying.

Arvain's cheeks were wet with tears as Hirvell crouched on the other side of Halbarad, his face set and hard as he struggled to control his emotions.

Halbarad, pale and breathing shallowly and with difficulty, was trying to speak despite Halladan's insistence that he should not. He did not even see Hirvell, so intent was he on speaking to his eldest son.

"You... you have made me proud this day... All three of you," he gasped. "I have always been proud of you... Your mother also... You have grown to be fine men... proud Dûnedain and noble..."

"Please, father, do not try..."

"Nonsense... if not now, then when, Halladan?... You had proved yourselves worthy... before this... but now you are men... great men, indeed... Elbereth smiles on you."

He stopped, struggling to fill his lungs with the air he needed to continue.

Halladan exchanged a glance with Hirvell opposite him and then with Arvain standing nearby. Arvain's distress was clear on his face, while Hirvell was pale with rage and grief, his eyes blazing.

"I must," Halbarad wheezed. "I must... ask you to do something..."

Halladan turned to him once more. Halbarad had to catch his breath and gain his strength with near every phrase he said. His voice was so quiet that Hirvell, on the other side of him, could now no longer hear him.

"Halladan... you remember I told you... of Lady Pen-ii... the woman I found... I told you her story..."

"Yes, father," Halladan said quietly, his eyes filled with tears.

"Tell her... tell her Lord Elrond told me... he told me everything..."

His voice was failing and Halladan had to bend closer to hear him.

"This... this is not her fault... I knew... It was my choice... she must not blame herself..."

Halladan nodded, unable to speak. His father had told all three of them about Penny, but had spoken about her most to Halladan. It cut Halladan deeply to now hear his father had known for certain that he faced his death in journeying south.

"Will... you tell her?"

"I will," Halladan managed to gasp out at last in a near sob, his throat tight as he struggled to contain himself.

"Promise me, Halladan... I need you... to promise me that..."

Halbarad's breathing was slowing, coming more difficultly with each rise and fall of his chest. His voice was cracking, quietening. Halladan knew his father was slipping away from him.

"What, father? What would you have me promise?"

"Promise me... that you will... look after her... as I told you I would..."

There was again a lengthy pause while Halbarad struggled to find the strength within him to continue speaking.

"Fulfill... my duty... by her... for me."

"I will. I promise."

There was a faint smile on Halbarad's lips, even a vague nod.

"Good... It is well... She is alone... she needs..."

Suddenly he gasped and coughed, and a trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth. His breathing was now a mere faint rasp.

"Pain... is easing..."

Halladan gave him a weak smile. He glanced up once more to catch his brothers' eyes and saw Arvain kneeling now, weeping openly; and while Hirvell's face was still hard, his cheeks were wet with tears.

Halladan felt the grip on his hand increase a little.

"I have... missed... your mother..." Halbarad whispered, a smile on his face. "Now I will... see her once more... that pleases me."

Another spasm shook his body as he murmured with a gasp, "Elbereth Gilthoni..."

And then, with a long, low sigh, Halbarad, Dûnedan of the North, died.

Halladan, still holding Halbarad in his arms, wept.

* * *

Author's Notes: I was not going to make Halbarad standard-bearer till I read this passage in 'The Battle of the Pelennor Fields' (ROTK): "There came Legolas, and Gimli wielding his axe, and Halbarad with the standard, and Elladan and Elrohir..." 

'Hamstringing', for those of you who don't know, is a particularly unpleasant activity, which involves cutting the hamstring tendon behind the knee. Apart from meaning you're crippled, invariably the main artery behind the knee tends to get sliced open in the process which is why duellers used to wear pads behind their knees sometimes.

Blood does indeed rust a sword – they would have had to be kept meticulously clean, and even then rust spots would develop over time. It's because of the proteins in the blood. Tissue will do the same thing. It's why surgery nurses and such get so paranoid about cleaning instruments, besides the contamination factor.

For what it is worth, I had already decided that Elrond told Halbarad even when I was writing the last chapter of "Don't Panic!". It was only later that I was reminded that Halbarad in fact foretold of his own death in front of the door to the Paths of the Dead (thanks, MumstheWord). So this is no longer pure poetic licence, I would argue. Penny did not tell Elrond when Halbarad would die – which battle – and so Halbarad did not know, only that he would not return to the North.


	2. Living In The Past

Please note (to those of you who may be re-reading this chapter): in researching chapter 3 I now realise that _all_ of Imladris went with Elrond & Arwen, so the beginning of this chapter has now been edited/rewritten in the light of that information. (Thank you, NL – this is why I have you as my canon beta... grin... to spot my daft mistakes)

* * *

**Chapter 2** _- "Living in the Past"_

Just for a change, Penny was panicking.

Well, actually, to be more accurate she was flapping.

Less than an hour before she had been formally invited by Lord Elrond to accompany him and most of the residents of Imladris when they left for Minas Tirith in a week's time. She had sat in his study blinking at him like an owl for a moment. Her mouth opened, then closed.

He had to bloody joking, didn't he!

"Pen-ii?" Elrond had asked, a slightly amused expression on his face.

"I... I thank you, Lord Elrond. Truly."

Penny flushed a little. She had known that nearly everyone in Imladris was going to be going, but had not been entirely certain if that included her or not, though quite what else she would have done were she not to go with them all to Minas Tirith she had not been exactly sure. She had felt to shy to ask anyone, though. Now it seemed that it did include her, but she still felt this was a great honour and one she felt she really did not deserve.

She said as much.

"Do not forget there will be a long, hard journey ahead of us, also," Elrond had said, a soft smile on his face and a slightly mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You may not consider it such an honour after three weeks in the saddle. Besides, you know that all Imladris will be coming, I am sure. We thought it as well to let you know that we wished you to join us."

So that was that and now she was flapping. Big time. She was going to THE wedding of the Age and she had nothing to wear. Not that she knew what one wore to the marriage of the Last of the Numenorean Kings and the only daughter of Gil-galad's right-hand man (or should that be 'right-hand elf'?), but whatever it was she was pretty sure she did not have it.

She was now rifling through her six dresses, assessing them all. There was one that she had not worn that often, if only because she liked it most. It was pale green with a little lace on the cuffs and neck. That one, then, would have to do.

"Oh, Pen-ii! I am so glad you will be coming with us all. I had thought you would be, but you had not said anything." Mireth was positively bouncing on the bed in Penny's chambers.

Penny shook her head, still not quite believing it. "Well, it will be good practice, I suppose, for next year," she grinned at Mireth.

Eleniel giggled. "Well, yes, we are all looking forward to that, Mireth."

Mireth flushed a little and fiddled with the silver ring she now wore. She and Celebdor had finally got betrothed a few weeks after the war was over. They had held off before then, thinking it inappropriate to do otherwise while so much else of far greater importance was going on.

And there had, indeed, been more important things happening.

The day after Halbarad left Penny told Elrond everything. There was a lot to tell and it took most of the day. Elrond related some of it to Erestor, Glorfindel and Arwen, and though not all it was enough that they knew of the major events. Glorfindel, Erestor and Elrond then questioned her closely about the happenings in the north, and she was forced to admit she knew very little.

"Lothlorien will be attacked from Dol Guldur. More than once, I think. Afterwards Celeborn destroys Dol Guldur." She did not know the Sindarin or Westron for Mirkwood or Dale, so showed them on maps where else she knew of there being battles.

"And here?" Glorfindel asked her. "What of Imladris?"

She shook her head. "I do not know, Lord Glorfindel. Forgive me. Nothing is said of it. I do know that Mithrandir thought that if Smaug were alive Imladris would be attacked. Now Smaug is dead it may be there will be no attack – only on the east side of the mountains maybe. I do not know."

The three nodded, their faces serious.

"No matter, Pen-ii," Elrond reassured her. "We knew not to rely on you. I thank you, you may go." She left them to discuss the details of the defence of the realm.

Within the weeks following the Dunedain's departure, Imladris gradually emptied of most of the ellyn. After weeks of busy work sharpening swords and forging arrowheads, the craft huts and workshops now fell silent. Penny's riding lessons ceased as Lindir went to the borders and a few days later Celebdor joined him.

Mireth became very quiet after that. Though she reassured Penny and Eleniel she was quite all right, they knew she was worrying about him.

"He's a very capable warrior, Mireth," Eleniel said to her. "You know that as well as I. He always does well in the hunts and the archery competitions. He can look after himself well enough. They all can. Any orcs that try anything will not have time to regret their foolishness."

Mireth nodded and smiled weakly. Penny merely felt her nerves grip her, in spite of the victory she knew was to come. The reality of it all was hitting home to her. She had never been in such a situation where there was a very real possibility of ambush or attack.

"Will your father's ring not help? To protect Imladris?" she asked Arwen when they were alone one day.

"It will indeed, but if they come with enough strength, they may break through. We cannot afford to rely on that alone. They do not do so in Lothlorien, nor do we here."

Penny nodded and fell silent.

As did Imladris, it seemed, as everyone waited for a possible attack.

Lord Elrond stayed, of course, but much of his time seemed to be spent with Erestor in discussion. Occasionally someone would come back from the border with a report. Penny noticed that Elrond's expression became grimmer each time she was aware of one of these ellyn arriving and leaving again almost as swiftly. She began to fear Imladris was going to be attacked after all.

All the while, of course, her thoughts were with the Fellowship, how they were faring, where they were and what they might be doing. She thought too of Halbarad, now riding south with his sons, and she wished him well, wished him a noble death if there was such a thing. She grieved for him, even though she knew he was not yet dead. She was furious for herself for doing it, and yet her knowledge that she would not see him again, that he would die, overwhelmed her sure knowledge that he was still alive. She found comfort in what both he and Lord Elrond had said to her before he had left. It meant she was better able to cope for the first few days after his departure, but she still wept at night, alone in her chambers. They were tears of frustration and helplessness as well as sorrow at his passing.

She considered trying to talk to Lady Arwen about it, but rejected that idea if only because the whole subject of mortality and how elves might view it would clearly be sensitive for her. She also chose not to speak to Elrond and for similar reasons. In the end she broached the subject with Erestor.

It had been just over two weeks after Halbarad had left, at the end of her daily lesson.

"I am very pleased, Pen-ii. You have come on remarkably. To tell you the truth, when we first started I thought it would be a much slower task, but you have proved me wrong. You have worked hard and it shows. You have done very well."

"I thank you, Lord Erestor. I would not have been able to learn so much without you pushing me. And everyone else also. Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor and Lindir never stop testing me. Bilba too."

"Ah, yes. Well, we have Maura to thank for Bilba's diligence. He started the Breakfast Sindarin Tests, did he not?" Erestor grinned.

"Yes, indeed." Penny fell silent for a moment while she gathered together her papers and books. "Erestor?"

"Yes, Pen-ii?" He looked up from wiping clean the little blackboard. "What is it?"

"Can I ask you something? Not about language?"

"But of course." He looked at her more closely and realised this was something serious. "Come. Sit." He indicated two comfortable chairs near the doorway that opened out onto the gardens.

"I do not want to upset you." She couldn't think of the word for 'offend.' "It is about humans and elves. About death."

Erestor seemed a little surprised. He had not expected that. "Umm... I see... ahh. Well, what did you want to ask?"

"I do not know, in truth. It's just... I cannot talk to Lady Arwen or Lord Elrond about this."

"And why not?" Erestor raised an eyebrow.

Penny looked a little surprised. "Because of Aragorn and Lady Arwen's choice."

Erestor regarded her for a moment. "Lady Pen-ii, you must understand that choice was made some time ago. You will not offend either of them if you ask them about mortality, in general terms, at least. I understand, though, that you were trying to be polite and not upset them. You need not have feared, I do not think. Perhaps, though, it is as well you chose to speak to me. What did you want to know?"

"Lord Elrond spoke a little of it before..." She faltered and then continued quietly, "Before Halbarad left."

Erestor nodded but said nothing.

"How do you bear it? How do you behave when you know that someone will die? Forgive me; I am not phrasing this well. I hope you understand me."

"I do indeed, Pen-ii. It is something all the Eldar must get used to, even without foreknowledge." Erestor shifted forward in his seat a little and looked at her kindly. "It is never easy. The pain does not get less with every friend you lose. Yet it is also the way of things. It always has been with the Second Born. That the First Born do not age and die while the Second Born do is Eru's Will. He knows best what is best for us. There is much comfort in that knowledge."

Penny nodded. That was something she had only recently been able to start thinking about and get her head round: that if all this was real, then so was Valinor, so were Maia and Valar... and so, therefore, was Eru Illuvatar. For someone who had never been terribly religious, that was a very strange notion. Erestor was right, though, it was surprisingly comforting.

"I feel bad because I am behaving as if Halbarad is dead now." Erestor could see she was having difficulty saying this, that her eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I know he is alive, yet I know I will... I will not see him... again. Is that wrong?"

"There is no right or wrong way to react, Pen-ii. You have to cope as best you can. It is hard for you: you are not used to this. We elves see it in you mortals every time we look at you. That might be difficult for you to understand, but it is there nonetheless. Do not forget we can die also. There may be friends of mine, dear elves I have known centuries, who may fall in Lothlorien or by Thranduil's side before all this is over. Perhaps even here in Imladris if we are attacked: friends of us both are at the borders of this realm."

Penny nodded. "Forgive me, Erestor. Of course this is harder for you all than for me."

"No, Pen-ii. Not at all. I am sorry I cannot give you any comfort more than that you have to learn to accept. Halbarad went south in the knowledge that he went to war and what that might mean. So did every male who went with him, including Elrond's own sons. So did every male whom you have seen leave in recent days, such as Lindir or Celebdor. There may come a day soon when Lord Elrond and myself will join them. We will both do so willingly, no matter the outcome."

Penny looked at him for a moment, his kind grey eyes watching her, his dark hair flowing past his shoulders and shining slightly in the mid-morning sun coming through the double doors. She gave him a faint smile and nodded.

"I thank you, Erestor," she murmured. "It is so strange for me, so different. I am not used to war or soldiers. Even in my time this would be strange."

"I realise, Pen-ii," he replied quietly. "You are welcome to talk to me any time. I know it is hard for you, and not simply because of the knowledge you possess. It helps a little, I think, to have told us what you know, has it not?"

"Very much."

"We thought it would," Erestor smiled. "We were concerned at one point that you would say nothing at all. You would not have had the strength for that, Pen-ii, not given the amount and detail of your knowledge. I say that even as one who has not been told nearly half of what you recounted to Lord Elrond. It was the right thing to do, as Mithrandir himself advised you."

Penny nodded and they fell silent for a moment.

"I can't stop thinking about them, about Halbarad and about them all."

"That is to be expected. All our thoughts are with them. With Maura in particular. In that you are not alone, Pen-ii."

That was true enough. She knew Bilbo was thinking of Frodo constantly.

Bilbo and Penny had maintained their daily tea ritual, much to the amusement of the elves of Imladris who clearly considered tea a revolting beverage. Bilbo would make a pot for them to share every morning for breakfast, while at four every day Penny would bring a freshly made pot and a pile of cakes to Bilbo in a small antechamber, just as the hobbits had asked her to do before they left.

Erestor would join them nearly every day if he could, but others would come also. Mireth and Eleniel would often make an appearance, and Bilbo was always particularly pleased to see them if Eleniel brought one of her freshly made honeyed seed cakes with her.

Erestor and Bilbo had also kept up their attempt to introduce Penny to various classic elvish works by reading to her over afternoon tea. She had now, at last, begun to understand bits and to respond and comment, showing she was able to follow the story or what was being said. This meant that, at last, she was able to go over some of the ancient tales with them both, and with Lord Elrond at other times, and so provide herself, and them, with a pleasant enough distraction from their thoughts and worries for an hour or so.

It all meant that she and Bilbo had become quite close. They looked out for each other. Not that Bilbo needed looking out for, by any means. He had told Penny as much if he felt she started fussing.

"I know that, Bilba, but I promised Kali I would keep an eye on you. Though, I actually think he asked me so you would look after me, not the other way around."

"Well, yes, if truth be told. You are an intelligent young woman, Lady Pen- ii, and I know you realise they were a little worried you would miss them once they were gone."

"And you do not?"

"Of course I miss them. But I had already left them once in Sûza and, if truth be told, I had not expected to see them all again. Maura, perhaps, but not the others." A warm smile had spread across his face. "I do miss Sûza sometimes. Not every kuduk that lives there, I will admit," he chuckled. "But I miss the rolling greens and my little house. Only for a moment, mind." He wagged a finger at her. "Only for a moment. If I had my choice (and I do) I would plump for Imladris every time. It is delightful here, and there is nothing to beat the company of elves. Nothing other than a few select kuduk with some fine ale and a pipe, mind you, but you can't have everything." He grinned.

He put a brave face on it, but she knew he was often thinking about Maura, worrying that he was safe. Of an evening they would sometimes play draughts together and, if she were a little late in getting to him in the chamber where they played in front of the fire, she would sometimes find him out on a balcony staring southeast, in the direction of Mordor. She would cough discreetly or make some noise on entering so as to notify him of her presence and he would turn, smiling at her affably enough. Yet she could see the tension in his jaw, the slight tightening of skin round his eyes.

"He will be fine, Bilba," she would murmur at such times. "You must not worry."

"I know, I know. He is a strong kuduk, that one. But then, as my relation, I would expect him to be."

He would smile at her.

Then proceed to beat her soundly at draughts. Every time. Without fail.

As March progressed, a palpable tension developed in the air. With most of the males gone, it was now only females working in the kitchens and stables. The garden was entirely under Mireth's supervision, and she had little time for anything else since, it being early spring, there was much to be done. Penny helped her as much as she could.

Then, at about the same time as the attacks on Lothlorien, as far as Penny could judge, there were attacks on Imladris. Not that Penny was aware of them when they actually happened: in the halls they heard nothing, nor saw one single orc. There were minor skirmishes on the borders, though. Mainly wolves, apparently, and orcs with a few wild-looking men and, while not nearly in anything like the numbers faced on the other side of the mountains, it was enough to keep things busy every now and then. Riders came back bearing the wounded if the injury was more than could be dealt with on the border, and one elf was killed.

Penny felt more useless than she ever had in her life. At Mireth's direction she cut various herbs and plants from the gardens for poultices and dressings within a few minutes of the first rider coming back with an ellon behind him, an arrow wound to his upper arm and a nasty gash on his thigh. Lord Elrond, of course, supervised the healing of the wounded, but Penny witnessed little of it.  
She did, however, see the dead elf before he was buried. He was laid out in a small basement chamber, candles round his body. Mireth and Eleniel took Penny to pay her respects. She presumed that it would be, at most, perhaps someone whose face she might recognise. She was shocked, however, when she saw she did indeed know him.

It was the first ellon she had met at Imladris: the one who had greeted her and Halbarad before they had crossed the river so many months before. They had spoken little since then, but always greeted each other, and he had been most courteous in his manner with her. She had got the impression he was quite a good friend of Lindir's since whenever he was back from patrol for a few days he invariably sat with Lindir at mealtimes. She even knew his name: Narion.

The expressions on the faces of the elves around her spoke volumes. Death was so much more shocking for them when it was one of their own. Penny could not have put into words the sorrow and distress she could feel from them all. That night the place was filled with lamentations and sad songs as they buried him.

Those males who had stayed at the halls now wandered round Imladris fully armed at all times, including Erestor and Elrond, just to be on the safe side. In the event, there was nothing more than those few sporadic scuffles on the borders, and there was no full-scale attack on Rivendell. Afterwards Glorfindel admitted to Penny that it might have been very different if Dale and Mirkwood had fallen and been overrun.

"They would have come over the mountains then, even if they were still battling in Lothlorien."

Penny remembered what she had read of Gandalf's reasoning regarding Smaug and knew Glorfindel was probably right.

Then, in mid-March, she was in the kitchen gardens weeding when there was a cry from one of the elleth working nearby. She looked up to see the elleth shielding her eyes, staring up into the sky. Penny looked skyward herself but could see nothing at first. Then, as Mireth came over to her, her own gaze turned upwards also now, Penny saw it: a speck, like a distant bird, wheeling in the sky.

"You see them?" Mireth had asked her.

"Them? There is more than one?"

"There are many. The great eagles. It is rare to see so many flying at once."

Penny squinted. She could not see many, only two more, so presumed most were out of her range of sight. The few she could see were flying southeast, though. It could only mean one thing.

She had begun running, then. Fast.

She had no idea why, but she felt she needed to tell Elrond, or at least Erestor. She came first to Erestor's study and found it empty, so she hared down the corridors to Elrond's chambers.

Before she reached them she felt it: a faint tremor. It was not an earthquake - nothing had shaken or fallen or broken. She had not even stumbled as she ran. Yet there was a definite faint rumbling in the stone beneath her feet.

She skidded to a halt, knowing what it had to mean. She was astonished it could be felt this far north.

It was over.

She had lost track, in the end, of what happened when. She had known it all happened in the first half of March but, as much as she had wracked her brains, she had not been able to remember the exact dates. It had meant she could not remember the exact day of the Battle of the Pelennor, and so when Halbarad died. Now she knew for certain he was gone. If the eagles were flying, if she had just felt the collapse of Barad-dûr and Sauron's fall, then he would have died several days before.

She slid to the floor and wept.

She heard a door open further down the corridor but did not look up. She did not, of course, hear the elf approach her but a familiar voice said her name softly. Erestor crouched beside her, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Pen-ii, what is it?"

She just shook her head.

"It is over, Pen-ii. We can feel it. Like a great cloud has been lifted from us. Lord Elrond has felt it very strongly."

She looked up at him, her eyes wet. "I know. I saw the eagles. I came to tell you and then I felt it. I... it means... I could not remember the dates, Erestor. I did not know when... Halbarad..."

Erestor held her as she wept softly. She wept for Halbarad, though she had grieved much for him already and had come to terms with his loss in large part. She wept for all that she knew for certain had transpired, what everyone had gone through. She also, though it was selfish perhaps, wept with relief. She no longer had to carry this huge weight on herself any longer.

There was the scouring of the Shire still, of course, but the hobbits would prove their status and worth amongst their own in dealing with that. It would not be nearly so difficult knowing of that and saying nothing.

The ellyn did not return from the borders for several days since they were doing what they could to hunt down the last of any orc or wolves within a few miles of their borders.

When they did return, they came in a large group and bearing several deer, so there was a huge feast that night. Penny sat with Lindir, Mireth, Eleniel and Celebdor and thoroughly enjoyed herself. Arwen commented to her father that she looked more relaxed and unburdened than they had possibly ever seen her. She was glad to see it.

Afterwards, the evening being mild enough, there was singing and dancing in a clearing in the gardens rather than in one of the larger rooms in the halls. Penny steadfastly ignored Mireth's pleas for her to join in, shaking her head furiously. While the pace had been relatively slow for many of the dance tunes, and the footwork not complex by any means, one had to know when to turn, when to move and in which direction. Besides, every elf there had, of course, the poise and elegance of a ballet dancer. She would not have the faintest idea of what to do and would have the grace of a walrus.

If she tried it, she would make a complete fool of herself. No bloody way was she dancing.

"Right, that's it!" A voice next to her startled her from her thoughts. "This next one is very easy, and you have to learn sometime. Come on!"

Lindir ignored her protests and dragged her, struggling against his hold on her wrist, into the middle of the clearing.

"Lindir, please..." she hissed, glancing around her nervously, convinced every elf in the place was now sniggering at her expense. She could feel she was already flushing with embarrassment and the dance had not even started yet.

"No use, Pen-ii," he grinned at her. "My mind is set. You will learn this if it kills me. Considering how hopeless you were with a horse when I first met you and can ride with a little skill these days, I think I can guide you through your first elvish dance tune. Just follow me."

She had no time to respond as he manhandled her to face opposite him, holding her right hand in his, before the music started.

In the event it _was_ an easy dance. It was slow and graceful, without any of the complicated criss-crossing, multiple turns and partner-swaps some of the others had entailed. She did manage to look hesitant and as stiff as a board at the beginning, keeping her eyes fixed on Lindir's movements in near terror as she tried to copy or mirror him. Since most of it seemed to involve walking arm and arm with him in a circle, the two of them turning round each other, or touching hands briefly to part once more, she got the hang of it quickly enough. By the end she was actually enjoying it.

Lindir looked quite smug as he led her back to the little bench where Mireth and Celebdor sat.

"See? Told you I could get her to do it," he grinned at Mireth.

"Well, you certainly had more luck persuading her than I," laughed Mireth.

"Persuading? He dragged me. I had no choice," spluttered Penny.

"Are you complaining, young lady?" Lindir raised an eyebrow at her.

"No. I thank you, Lindir. Really." She held up her hand as he opened his mouth, "And no, I will not dance another one. That was enough, I think."

They shook their heads at her, laughing. In the event, after plying her with a couple of glasses of strong wine, Lindir did manage to drag her off for two more dances, but even then it was a battle. The two had become good friends since the 'River Incident' and, since her language skills had improved, both had found they had a similar sense of humour.

Many of the elves in Rivendell were courteous towards Penny, but showed little inclination to get to know her better other than those she saw most on a daily basis. Elrond and Arwen had been very kind and supportive, were always there if she needed them, but were still the Lord of Imladris and his daughter, and as often as she had spoken to them, she still kept a sense of formality with them on some level. Glorfindel she had barely seen since he was nearly always on patrol or guarding the borders, but he always had a smile and a few words for her when they met. Erestor had become a friend, particularly since she was better able to communicate, but of a very different kind to Mireth, Eleniel, Celebdor and Lindir who were the four she had really got closest to.

With some amusement, Penny watched as Erestor danced with Arwen, as Elrond even joined in several times. Glorfindel was terribly elegant and seemed to enjoy the more vigorous dances in particular. He was positively grinning as he whirled an elleth on his arm on occasion.

At last she felt that it was late, and she was a little drunk, and she had better leave before Lindir convinced her to do something really daft like attempt some hopelessly complicated dance, or else persuade her to sing.

He had been desperately pushing her to sing a native song from her 'home country' for weeks, and she had managed to resist so far, claiming not to remember any or to have a dreadful singing voice.

"Worse than a hound," she had grinned at him. Lindir had laughed loudly.

No song she knew would be suitable for elvish ears, if only because most pop songs would be considered deeply bizarre in wording, tune, rhythm or all three. The only thing she knew that was even vaguely like a 'folk song' was 'On Ilkley Moor Bar Tat,' and she really didn't think that would be appropriate. Likely enough Erestor would be able to translate some of it, given how much English he had now learnt from her. Meeting lovers in the open air, dying and then being eaten by things was not likely to be considered amusing in the least.

No, she was leaving now. Lindir caught her, though.

"Off so soon?"

"Soon?" she laughed. "Others have already left. It is late, I am tired, and I have drunk too much wine."

"One can never have too much wine," Lindir grinned.

"You need me to remind you? A river bank? Naked?"

Lindir narrowed his eyes and flushed a little. Penny snickered.

"'Night, Lindir."

He grinned after her, shaking his head.

In the month or so since the feast, life had fallen into an easy routine. The gardens were blossoming and, while Penny no longer had a Sindarin lesson every day, Erestor now had her practising her reading by getting her to read out loud selected passages from the Lays and Tales lining his bookshelves. She had discovered that, while only relatively good at pot throwing, she was better at decorating them. She could not achieve the level of intricacy, delicacy and detail that typified the elvish style, but her simple yet colourful designs both intrigued and delighted the potters. They assured her that they would sell very well and that they would make sure she earned from any that sold at the Bree market or elsewhere.

She had started feeling quite at home in Rivendell. Now, though, as she held up the green dress to herself with Mireth and Eleniel nodding their approval at her, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach.

She would see Lothlorien, Galadriel, Rohan, Minas Tirith. She would... she would SEE the mountains of Mordor, the ruins of Osgiliath... God, she would ride across the Pelennor itself!

Penny's head reeled.

Now that she thought about it, she was not sure if she was looking forward to this.

* * *

Author's Notes - 

Just a reminder: Maura, Sûza, Bilba, Kali & kuduk are the Westron for Frodo, the Shire, Bilbo, Merry & hobbit(s) respectively.

There was no record of an attack on Imladris, which is why I have made it only mild skirmishes on the border and nothing more. The entire area was filled with wolves, and Bree was on high alert when the hobbits returned there after the war due to the things wandering abroad and the bad men in the area – loads coming from Isengard, don't forget - as well as the fact that the Rangers are no longer about protecting the area since they have gone to war. While the main target would have been Dale, Erebor, Mirkwood and Lothlorien, it is not inconceivable that Imladris would not have escaped entirely unscathed.

Oh, and 'draughts' is, in UK English, what 'checkers' is, I believe, in US English. I would remind people that I am a Brit so I use UK English spellings/references.

_Ellon_ - male elf

_Ellyn_ - male elves

_Elleth_ - female elf.


	3. Under Starter's Orders

Author's note: It was pointed out by my canon beta, NL, that nearly all of Rivendell went with Elrond and Arwen, so the beginning of chapter 2 has been slightly re-written accordingly.

* * *

**Chapter 3** _- "Under Starter's Orders"_

"Erestor, I need your help with something."

Penny had gone to see the advisor almost immediately after she had finished rifling through her dresses. She had found him seated outside his study on a chair, reading in the early summer sun.

"I am not disturbing you, I hope?"

Erestor closed his book, carefully marking his place in it with a strip of ornately decorated leather that served him as a bookmark. He raised a curious eyebrow at her.

"Not at all, Pen-ii. What is it? Has Lord Elrond spoken to you about coming with us all?"

"He has, and that is what I wanted to talk to you about." Penny settled herself on the step to his study and looked up at him. "It is a great honour, and I am very pleased, but I am worried. I presume I cannot be at the wedding without a present, I would have thought. What in Arda do I give them? I only have a week to find something."

"'What in Arda', Pen-ii?" Erestor could not help but laugh. "Dear me, I think I shall have to have words with Lindir if you are picking up those kinds of expressions from him." He grinned.

"Oh, stop it. Are you going to help me? This is serious," said Penny, returning his grin.

"Of course it is. You should not worry, Pen-ii. Lady Arwen knows you have had little time to prepare anything. She will not expect anything from you. She would be concerned, I am sure, if she felt you were going to any trouble on her behalf."

"That is not the issue, Erestor. I want to do this, especially if it is the convention, and I do not want to be the only one who does not give anything, even if it is only something small."

Erestor regarded her for a moment. One thing that had been immediately apparent to them all, even just from Halbarad's description of her behaviour with him in Bree and on the journey to Imladris, was that Penny could be wilful and stubborn. He could see a certain determined look in her eye at this moment and realised that there would be no persuading her. He would have to do what he could to help her find a suitable gift to take with her, even though she had only seven days to do so.

"Well, I am sure there may be something suitable in one of the workshops, something that would go well in the Tower of Ecthelion."

Penny gave Erestor what could only have been described as 'a withering look.'

"Erestor, if at all possible I would like to give her something... that is from _me_. Not something made by someone else, or given to me to give to her. I only wish I was truly skilled at something. I cannot hope to ever have the kind of skill that you elves have at most things." She let her head drop into her hands. "Oh, this is hopeless!" she sighed.

Erestor looked at her. He had a suspicion she might have had an idea of a gift already, but was too shy or embarrassed to say what she was thinking of.

"What did you have in mind, Pen-ii?"

"You promise me you will not laugh? I want your honest opinion if you think it will be inappropriate."

"I promise. What were you thinking?"

He prayed to the Valar she was not going to suggest the rag-rug she had made. He had no idea how tactful he could manage to be about that. He may be a diplomat of centuries of experience, but it would be hard not to hurt her feelings about its awfulness given the amount of time she had spent on it.

"Well... I am not very good with throwing pots, as you know, but I do have one vase I have made that is not so bad. Even the potters have told me so." Erestor raised an eyebrow at her and she smirked. "Well, let's just say it doesn't wobble and is not too lop-sided." Erestor laughed as Penny continued. "I have not decorated it yet. My decoration is not as good as the elvish style, of course, but well enough that some things that I have painted have sold at markets already. I was thinking... perhaps..." She looked at him doubtfully. "It's a bad idea, isn't it?"

"Not at all, Pen-ii," said Erestor, just relieved and thankful that it wasn't the rug.

He had seen some of the pots and bowls she had painted and had been pleasantly surprised. She had said to Mithrandir she had enjoyed art in her youth, and it was clear she had a little talent for it. The designs were, it was true, nothing like elvish ones. They were clearly mannish in their simplicity and boldness, and yet utterly unlike anything he had seen before: unique, really. As such, something decorated by her would be entirely appropriate. The palace would be filled with such things as vases and plates, of course, but that was not the point. The point was she would have made an effort to give Aragorn and Arwen something that was relevant or personal. He knew Arwen would be most touched by such a gesture, and Aragorn also.

"I think that it is a marvellous idea, I really do."

He came with her, then, to the workshop to see the vase she was talking about. He discussed with her if it was suitable and in the end they decided that it perhaps was not well made enough, so he helped her choose an undecorated one made by the elvish potters.

"There was a bowl I had painted that Lady Arwen said she liked the pattern and colouring of: pale blue with little white and yellow flowers on it. I think I shall do the same design on this." She looked at Erestor who nodded his approval. "Would it be too much, do you think, to have a line of poetry on it? Something from a love poem, maybe? I would have to ask you to choose for me, of course."

"That is a delightful thought, Pen-ii. I shall think of something suitable for you."

"Would you also write it on the vase for me? I do not trust my Tengwar with a brush on a curved surface and I want it to be perfect."

Erestor agreed. Penny was thrilled and thanked him all the way back to the halls. The vase Erestor had chosen was small, and so easy to pack for travelling, but at least he had approved her idea of decorating it herself. It was a little thing, perhaps, but she wanted to make an effort for a present for them. Especially after all the kindness and support Arwen had shown her.

She was surprised that evening when, after supper, Mireth and Eleniel dragged her off to Eleniel's chambers.

"What is it, you two?"

The two ellith exchanged a grin.

"Well, Pen-ii, I didn't say anything earlier, because I needed to check what I had first," Eleniel began as Mireth closed the door. "That green dress you chose today is the best of the ones you have and will certainly do well enough, but I thought you might like a new one for the wedding itself."

Penny's jaw near hit the floor.

"Don't look so surprised, Pen-ii," laughed Mireth. "You know we always have a few dresses ready-made in case of visitors or someone needs a new one for some reason. Eleniel has found one that will suit you perfectly. It is only a shame there is not enough time to make you a completely new one." Hand-sewing a dress would, indeed, take a lot longer than a week.

Eleniel went to her wardrobe and pulled out a deep red dress. It had a little embroidery on the cuffs and round the neck in white and gold: nothing too fancy, but certainly enough to make it more splendid than any dress Penny had been given so far.

"Oh, but it's beautiful," Penny gasped, coming over to it and taking it from Eleniel. The two elves watched her astonishment and delight with wide grins. Penny glanced up at Eleniel. "Thank you so much, Eleniel. I am... touched. Really. This is too much."

"Nonsense. It was just sitting there collecting dust, so it is as well you should have it."

Penny knew that was a slight exaggeration, but thanked her all the same.

"It will need a little adjusting," Eleniel continued. "It is far too long, of course, and will need a little fixing to shape it correctly for your figure, but most can be done before we leave, and the rest I can do on the journey. It will take us two months to get there, nearly, so I will have plenty of time."

Penny was looking forward to the fact that she would be travelling with so many people she knew.

Bilbo would not be coming, of course. From the day Barad-dûr had fallen, he had started to age considerably. Penny and he still played draughts of an evening now and then, though outside usually now that the weather was so much milder. A few elves would be remaining also, to maintain the halls and gardens and to care for the animals such as the chickens, geese and ducks, so Bilbo would have company.

"It is a shame you will not be there to see it," Penny said one afternoon over tea. Mireth, who was with her, agreed.

"No, I will not make long journeys again, my dear," said Bilbo. "I would like to be there, true enough, but it is too far. You will have to tell me all about it when you come back, though. I shall have to write it all down."

"I am sure there will be others here who might be able to do that better than I. Maura will tell you everything you could want to know, I am sure."

Bilbo nodded, a warm smile on his face, but said nothing.

Preparations had already been under way for weeks, now. Given the number of people going, there was a lot to be done. Food needed to be prepared, for a start. Early fruit crops were picked and prepared, jars of stored fruits, dried fruits and nuts were now brought out from storerooms and readied. Penny was roped in to help make 'cram': it was prepared on large square trays that filled an entire shelf in the massive ovens. Once cooled it was cut into squares and wrapped in leaves.

Four days before they left, Erestor carefully painted on the line of poetry he had found for her vase. At Penny's request he had found a suitable line from the Lay of Leithian. She was concerned it might not be an appropriate choice of poem but Erestor assured her than Arwen would love it. The vase was glazed and fired later that same day. Erestor admired it when it was done and said he thought it entirely suitable. Penny beamed.

"So, should I give her this now, or later? At Minas Tirith? On the wedding day itself? How are things done? I don't want to offend anyone."

"You must not worry yourself so much, Pen-ii," laughed Erestor. "Really, we elves are not so caught up in formalities as the humans you will meet. We have our ceremonies and traditions, but we are far more relaxed and fluid in our dealings with each other. Just wait till you reach Minas Tirith: Mithrandir and Aragorn could have told you, but it is there, not here, you will have to worry about what you do or say and to whom and how. You can present your gift to Arwen whenever you feel it would be most appropriate. Some are still giving their gifts to her now, some did so quite some time ago, others will not be given till we reach Gondor. It is up to you."

In the end Penny decided she would give it to her before they left. That way Arwen could discreetly leave it at Imladris if she did not like it.

She spoke to Mireth and Eleniel about it, and they both said they had yet to give their gifts to Arwen.

"We shall give them to her together, if you wish," smiled Mireth. Penny felt relieved. Her gift would not match theirs, but at least it would not make such a big thing of it than if it was presented by itself.

That evening, just before supper, the three went to their chambers to fetch their gifts and then, meeting at the bottom of the stairs, made their way to the small clearing with the fountain where they knew Arwen would be. A few other elves were already there, presenting her with this or that, and Penny realised that this was clearly a pre-arranged thing since Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel were all there also, admiring the various gifts as they were given.

Mireth gave Arwen a bracelet she had had made in the shape of intertwined flower buds. Eleniel had made Arwen a beautiful shawl with detailed embroidery on it that must have taken even someone of her skill quite some time to do. As she presented it she explained that this was actually on behalf of several ellith, not just herself, since a group of them had worked on it together. Penny stepped forward and said little as she presented her vase. She did not want to make a big thing of it, given it was hardly comparable to anything else she could see Arwen had been given. Arwen, though, realised immediately it was her own design work.

"Oh, I loved this pattern when you showed me the bowl you had done. Thank you so much, Pen-ii. It is delightful." She read the line of poetry on it and beamed at her. "Most appropriate. I thank you, Pen-ii." Penny smiled.

Looking up she caught Erestor's eye. He grinned at her and nodded his head as if to say 'I told you so.' Penny moved round to him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Not at all, Pen-ii," he chuckled.

The next day, with Mireth, Eleniel and Arwen's help and advice, Penny began to pack. She had next to nothing to take, of course, but her three pairs of shoes and six dresses. Arwen advised her to take them all.

"You do not know how long you may stay, Pen-ii. It may be you find you prefer the company of men rather than elves. You would be most welcome in Minas Tirith, I am sure."

Penny had faltered a little at that, and looked at Arwen quizzically. She wondered if, in fact, she had been invited for reasons other than just to view the scenery and other places in Middle-earth. She could have stayed behind with Bilbo, if they had so chosen. Arwen had sensed her change of mood. She gave Penny a warm smile.

"Do not fear, Pen-ii. You will not be forced to live anywhere you would not wish to be, and Imladris will be your home for as long as wish to stay."

"I thank you, Lady Arwen," said Penny, but she was a little worried now.

"You must also consider anything in your chamber to be yours to take with you, Pen-ii. So, please, take the hand mirror, the comb, towels, or anything else that you feel you will need. I know Mireth has supplied you with scented oil and shampoo already. You will find such things in short supply amongst the men, or not nearly of the same quality. It would be an idea to fill up your bottles when we reach Lothlórien as well."

Penny smiled, then. Mireth had indeed supplied Penny with a little wooden box with three, large stoppered pots in it: shampoo, conditioner and scented oil. It also contained a large bar of soap wrapped in a kind of cheesecloth. Elvish views on human hygiene were well known to her now. Both Mireth and Eleniel had been appalled and disgusted by Penny's description of Bree. They had heard it was bad, but to hear Penny's eyewitness account of it had confirmed that humans were no cleaner than animals as far as they were concerned. Neither was particularly looking forward to visiting Minas Tirith or Edoras.

"Gondor might not be so bad," Eleniel said doubtfully, "but I can remember Aragorn talking about Edoras after he first went there. Mithrandir could tell you tales about that place that would make your hair stand on end, Pen- ii."

Penny was alarmed. She had got very used to the comforts of Imladris. She did not imagine Lothlórien would be much different, but would she be back to nightmare latrines and latherless soap further south? She remembered Saruman's comment to the effect that the Rohirrim were filthy lowlife with dogs everywhere. There were all the horses too, of course... which would mean piles of horseshit everywhere, presumably...

Once more Penny felt she was not looking forward to this, though for entirely different reasons now. Her one small comfort was that, if it turned out to be as bad as she, Mireth and Eleniel feared, the elves would be just as appalled by it all as she would be if not more so. That could be quite an amusing sight to see: a hundred elves, or more, having to deal with latrines of the kind she had dealt with in Bree. It suddenly occurred to her that Elladan (he who had seen fit to wash his comb in front of her) had had to deal with Edoras already as well as Helm's Deep. She could just imagine Aragorn and Halbarad wetting themselves as Elrohir and Elladan went about the place with cloths tied over their noses and disgusted expressions on their faces. Penny started snickering just at the thought.

Mireth had also given Penny a few sachets of herbs to take with her. One was herbs for any pain or aches. She had also given her some salve and balm because, as she said, it was always useful to have these things about you since you never knew when you might need them. The balm, apparently, was particularly good on aching muscles and sore skin.

"You'll need it after a few weeks riding or walking, Pen-ii, I can promise you," Mireth had smiled.

The largest of the sachets, filled with the herbs Penny took once a month to ease her period pain, made her realise, to her horror, that she was going to have to deal with _that_ while on the move. Being able to wash cloths in the privacy of her chambers and then leaving them to dry in front of the fire where no one could see them was one thing. She had got used to that completely. Now, though, she would have to try and dry them while in the middle of an open-air camp with umpteen males wandering about.

It was two days before they left. Penny was in the dressmaking workshop, being fitted for the red dress again so Eleniel could check it had been taken up to the correct length. Arwen had just come in to discuss a few things and, after admiring Penny's dress, the two walked back to the halls together.

"It suits you, Pen-ii. I think Eleniel has chosen very well for you."

"I thank you, Lady Arwen." Penny paused. "Can I ask you something?"

"But of course, Pen-ii. What is it?"

"It's... well... I imagine it is something an elleth would never have to deal with, and you may not know what to advise me, but we will be travelling long enough for me to have two bleeds before we reach Minas Tirith. I am at a loss as to how to deal with it. Here it is easy enough to keep it from being known. I realise the ellyn understand these things happen – that is life – but I would prefer to be as... private as possible about it all. Having to wash and dry cloths while keeping it private will not be easy. Perhaps not possible at all. I do not want to embarrass them... or myself."

"I understand entirely, Pen-ii. Though, as you say, they would understand and not be embarrassed in the least. That first time here, with Erestor, he was more embarrassed because he had made a fuss over it all without realising what was happening than anything else. The other elleth and I will help you to be discrete. The main thing will be drying the cloths, of course. You will see that we will sleep separately – the males from the females – while travelling. It should be easy enough to place the cloths over or near our own fire every evening and nighttime. We shall manage, I am sure."

Penny nodded, somewhat relieved. With all of them working together on the problem she felt confident that they would manage to be as discrete as could be possible in such a situation.

Penny had so little to take with her that she shared a bag with both Eleniel and Mireth for her clothes. She, being the only one with a saddle, also had two large saddlebags to pack. She was advised to keep her toiletries and anything she may need every day in them, so she packed her box of soaps and oils in there, as well as a small flannel and one towel. The comb, mirror and razor were in there also.

On the other side she packed her sheaf of papers of Sindarin vocabulary, her Sindarin reader and also Erestor's latest gift to her. He had called her into his study the day before they were due to leave.

"This will be your first time outside of Imladris since you came here," he had said to her. "Eru knows what you will make of it all, or if you will come back here."

Penny looked at him sharply. He was now the second person to say that to her. Was something else going on here that she did not know about?

"In any case, I thought you might like these. A gift. I will expect you to read from them while we are travelling, to keep up your lessons, but I think you will enjoy having them also." He then presented her with two books.

One, she was stunned and delighted to see, was a copy of Quenta Silmarillion. There were maps and one or two illustrations, just simple ink and pen line drawings, of Gondolin, Doriath and other major cities or places of note. The other, since he knew it was one of her favourite tales, was the entire Tale of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin.

She had tears in her eyes.

"Thank you, Erestor. Really. I... I don't know what to say. Thank you. I will treasure them."

"I know you will," he smiled.

As she made her way to dinner that evening, she mulled over the fact that both Arwen and Erestor had now hinted at the possibility of her not returning to Imladris. Was this just them thinking she might prefer to be with human company? Or had something been discussed about her, in her absence, to the effect that it might be better for her to stay in Gondor than with the elves? She could not stay in Rivendell indefinitely, she supposed. Elrond had shown her much kindness in allowing her to stay even as long as she had. Now the war was over these were issues that needed to be addressed. She felt a wave of nerves hit her. Perhaps she would be persuaded not to come back here. Would she ever see Imladris again?

After the meal, in which she was noticeably quiet, despite Lindir's best efforts to get her chatting, she sat in the Hall of Fire with Bilbo listening to the songs. Elrond and Erestor were not there, she noticed, and after a little while she decided she needed to talk to them about this. She knew they would only have her best interests at heart, but she felt this needed to be discussed. She also had a right to know if something had been decided without her.

She checked the few smaller antechambers in case they were using them, as was often the case, but found them empty. The only places left were their own private studies. The laughter and low talking from behind Erestor's chamber door told her where they were. She knocked and waited.

"Come in," Erestor called.

Penny opened the door and stuck her head round it. She could see Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel were all sharing a flagon of wine, seated on a blanket they had spread on the grass just outside the door that led to the gardens.

"Forgive me, am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all, Pen-ii. Would you care for some wine?" Elrond replied. Without even waiting for her response, Glorfindel stood and entered Erestor's study to fetch her a goblet from the cabinet where they were kept.

"I thank you, that is most kind," Penny replied, crossing the study to join them outside and sit on the blanket next to Erestor as he had indicated for her to do. Glorfindel followed her with a cup in his hand and handed it to Erestor who then poured her some wine.

"Are you looking forward to travelling?" Glorfindel asked her as he seated himself once more.

"Very much," she nodded. "A little nervous, perhaps, but more excited, I think." The three ellyn smiled.

"What are you looking forward to seeing most, do you think?" asked Elrond.

Penny considered for a moment and then, with a slight laugh had to admit that she really did not know.

"Lothlórien, I think, since it is so hard to imagine what it might be like, but since all the places we will see are part and parcel of the story I know so well, it will all be wonderful and strange. Just like when I first came here." Penny paused before adding hesitantly, "It... it may be a little overwhelming for me, you do realise that?"

"Yes, Pen-ii, we are well aware of it," said Erestor kindly. "But there will be many there with you who know your story, and others who have become good friends and will be there if you need them. Besides, it is a little different for you now, perhaps, since you can communicate and you have already had to accept where you are and what you are surrounded by. It is not quite the same as those first few days or weeks here in Imladris were for you."

"Yes, that is true. Even so... seeing... seeing Mordor, the Pelennor and places like it will be a little difficult..."

"They will be difficult for us all, Pen-ii, though for different reasons, perhaps," said Elrond quietly.

There was a brief silence.

"Lord Elrond," said Penny at last. "May I discuss something with you?"

Elrond looked at her quizzically and nodded.

"It's nothing, perhaps, but Lord Erestor and Lady Arwen have both mentioned something to me that as made me think. I... I don't really know how to begin, but... well... what is to become of me?" She kept her gaze firmly fixed on her cup of wine and did not see the slight glance exchanged between the three ellyn as she spoke. "I realise it was not, perhaps, a decision that could be made before the war ended, but now..."

Elrond shifted himself slightly before speaking. "Pen-ii, the decision will be yours. I am not going to pretend it has not been discussed. It is, I must confess, one of the reasons why we asked you to accompany us all, though not the chief one, I hasten to add."

Penny felt her heart sink. So she had been right.

"I had planned to discuss this with you in Minas Tirith," Elrond continued. "I was not going to say anything to you about it till then since I did not want you to think we were trying to make you leave Imladris against your will. Far from it. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. If you want to make this your permanent home I would be happy to allow you to stay. However, we felt it only fair that you be given the choice... and to make that choice you need to know what the choices are. You can only do that by seeing the possibilities for yourself, I think you would agree. Wherever you decide to settle, you will need to have people near you who know your story, so your choice will be between staying here in the North with us, or moving to Minas Tirith with Aragorn and Arwen. You will be as well provided for there as here, I can assure you. I had planned to discuss this with Mithrandir and Aragorn, though, before I broached it with you. I wanted their opinion and advice. They may think it better you stay with us here, rather than risk much interaction with the humans of Arda given your circumstances and background."

Penny was not entirely sure why she felt so upset about all this. Part of her was fairly furious that this had all been discussed behind her back, but she realised that no decisions had been made, nor would they have been made without her full involvement. She still felt she should have been told.

All three elves could sense her resentment.

"Forgive me if I have upset you," said Lord Elrond.

"Not at all," Penny smiled.

They could tell she was being polite, but gave her credit for not expressing her true feelings. All three were struck by the difference between this and the woman they had first met, who would have been screaming and shouting her disapproval almost instantly, and especially if Halbarad had been with them.

"Well, I cannot comment on the peoples of the south," Penny continued quietly, "but if the humans of the north are anything to go by, I think I have more in common with elves."

"How so, Pen-ii?" asked Erestor.

"Well, you believe in washing for a start."

They laughed loudly at that.

"Well, yes, that is true enough," chuckled Elrond. He regarded Penny for a moment. "Forgive me, Pen-ii, perhaps I should have spoken to you before now. I did not want you to think you were not welcome here. You are. I hope you know that."

"I thank you, Lord Elrond," she nodded. "I do. Do not think me ungrateful. You have been most kind and courteous to me. I have not deserved it, and yet you have taken me in and looked after me. I... I am very honoured and I can never repay you."

"It was the least we could do for you, Pen-ii. It is Halbarad you have to thank, though, in truth. It was his decision to bring you here. He could have left you in any one of the small human settlements in Eriador."

"I know," said Penny, her voice suddenly quiet.

Others joining them, who had been out for a walk in the gardens and so discovered them from the outside, interrupted their discussion. Arwen was amongst them, as were Celebdor, Mireth and Eleniel, and a pleasant and entertaining evening was spent in telling tales, jests and deep discussions on utterly frivolous matters.

Tomorrow morning, early, they would set off and Penny would be with them. Ahead of her she faced new experiences, new places and new peoples. Now she knew she could even possibly be travelling to a new home.


	4. The Long and Winding Road

**Chapter 4** _- "The Long and Winding Road"_

It was an early wake-up call that morning. Not that Penny had slept much, since she was so excited. She expected most of Rivendell had been up half the night as well. Certainly the talking had gone on till very late on the grass outside of Erestor's study the previous night. When Mireth knocked on her chamber door, Penny was already up and dressed with her last few wash items packed in her saddlebag, and she was sitting on the bed waiting for Mireth to arrive.

At breakfast, though, it started to kick in and Penny was yawning hugely. Bilbo was chortling to himself.

"Now, Pen-ii, that was not sensible. Travelling is a tiring business without setting out already exhausted. Elves do not need rest the way we do, or at least they can catch up on their rest in ways that we cannot." He drained the last of his tea before asking, "Now, do you have everything packed?"

He started listing everything he thought she might need, like a fussing mother hen. Penny was actually very touched that he was treating her no differently to how he might fuss over Pippin, or even Frodo.

"Tea? Did you pack some tea?" he was now asking.

She sat bolt upright in response.

"What! You did not pack tea?" Bilbo was appalled. "Go! Shoo! Quickly! There is still time!" With that he was up off his chair and hurrying her gently along in front of him down to the kitchens where they found a spare empty pot and filled it with tea leaves.

"But I do not have a teapot, or a strainer. I cannot just take one without asking, Bilba."

"Yes, you can. They have plenty." Bilbo helped himself to a strainer from one of the large drawers of utensils.

All around them was a flurry of activity with elves already carrying out the packages of foodstuffs to be loaded onto the horses. Naurdir was busy directing everyone and looked harassed beyond belief. Penny did not really like to disturb him, but when he came straight past her at one point, stopping to ask her had she packed some lembas amongst her own things yet, she waved the tea strainer at him.

"Can I take this with me, Naurdir? I do not want to without asking."

"Yes, yes, of course. Anything you need, take it," said Naurdir flapping his hand vaguely at her, before rushing over to take charge of a large pack of cram being lifted out of the door. Penny was not even sure Naurdir had even taken in what it was she was asking about, but no matter.

Once outside, it was not mayhem exactly, but extremely busy and Penny felt she was better off out of the way rather than under everyone's feet. She kept up on the steps with Bilbo, watching everything being readied.

The number of horses about was extraordinary. She knew there were a lot in Imladris given how large the stables were, as well as the considerable number in the various paddocks round Imaldris itself. To see them all in one place together, however, was fairly impressive. She noticed that most were being used to carry belongings.

Not everyone would be riding, then.

She saw Lindir leading the mare she usually rode towards her. The horse was already saddled and all tacked up. He helped her get the saddlebags on, and then a few other things were loaded on as well, such as a water sac, bedrolls and other sundry items that she would share with Eleniel on their travels. Penny felt a little guilty about riding if everyone else would be walking.

"Nonsense, Pen-ii," laughed Lindir. "We will not all be walking. Many will be riding, myself included, and as the foodstuffs are depleted more space will become available on the other horses also. We will take turns on the horses as well. You must remember, though, Pen-ii, this will be a hard journey for you, whether you walk or ride. You will be glad to have a horse available for you to sit on, as well as the opportunity to get out of the saddle at times. You, of all of us, need to have a horse."

Ah, so it was 'the feeble human' routine, thought Penny bitterly. She could not deny the truth of it, though.

At last everything was ready, and it was still early morning. Penny and Bilbo had said their goodbyes already, but she still gave him a quick hug before climbing up into the saddle. She watched with interest the quiet conversation had between Lord Elrond, Lady Arwen and Bilbo before the two elves then went to mount their steeds.

Elrond, Arwen, Glorfindel and Erestor were all horsed. Lindir was also riding, as were many of the ellyn. Celebdor had insisted Mireth start out on his horse and was walking by her side. Penny noticed that the ellyn were all fully armed with sword, knife and bow. She was even more surprised when Lindir came up to her and pulled a small dagger from his belt and stuffed it into one of her saddlebags. She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her.

"Just to be on the safe side, Pen-ii. You may be grateful for it at some point. Besides, Lord Glorfindel insisted."

Penny looked up to find the golden-haired ellon already astride his steed, some way ahead and beside Lord Elrond. He was twisted round on his horse's back and watching Lindir's actions. He caught her eye and smiled, nodding at her. She nodded in return, but could not help but feel nervous. She knew orcs were still to found, if sporadically, in the mountains. There were many fully armed warriors travelling with them, of course, but the very fact that they were insisting she also have her own knife 'just in case' still completely freaked her out.

If actually faced with an orc, she doubted she would have the presence of mind to even reach for a dagger, or do anything at all other than have hysterics, wet herself or simply have a heart attack on the spot. Even if it never came to that and any attack was held off by the warrior ellyn, she was still likely to make a complete fool of herself: scream herself silly or worse. It did not bear thinking about. She felt vaguely sick and tense at the very idea.

Bilbo and the few elves staying behind were standing on the steps to see them off. The hobbit waved cheerily enough, but Penny knew he was still sad he could not come with them.

'He'll love having the run of the place, though,' Penny thought. She smirked as she thought of him bustling about Imladris directing elves who were more than capable of knowing what needed to be done without him telling them. 'He'll drive them completely potty.' She laughed to herself.

Lindir had come to ride along side her as they slowly set off and raised an eyebrow at her quiet chuckle.

"Just thinking about Bilba," she explained. "He will be running circles round them all within a week, I am sure of it." Lindir grinned and nodded.

The pace was slow, since many were walking, but even so they covered good ground. Just after midday they came to the Ford of Bruinen and turned south towards Hollin. Penny, sitting side-saddle, as were all the elleth who were riding, was content to watch the countryside pass and listen to the songs being sung. No sooner did one voice fall silent from somewhere within the crowd, than another would begin. Only once or twice was there a tune in Quenya, so many of the songs she could follow to a certain extent. She realised many of them were love songs, and wondered if this was deliberate. She suspected it was.

They stopped for lunch, which was a simple meal of cheeses, bread and water. Everyone sat in small groups where they were, and made no attempt to stand on ceremony or get together in a group. Most had their own food with them, which, when it ran out, would be replaced from the larger stores loaded on the horses.

It was a very relaxed affair, and Penny, as she ate with Mireth, Eleniel, Lindir and Celebdor, looked about at the horses grazing quietly, the small groups of elves chattering and laughing sitting on the ground, and was amazed. You would not have thought this was the start of a two-month trek to Gondor that would involve miles and miles of travel on foot for most as well as slogging over a mountain range. It was like a day out for a picnic.

It felt utterly bizarre.

But then, that was elves for you. Penny could just imagine Halbarad saying as much, too.

She decided to walk a little after lunch, rather than ride. Her backside was already aching a little, and they had barely begun. As they journeyed further, the landscape was becoming bleaker. There were few trees, except deep in the valleys where there were gushing, rapid waters, tumbling over boulders and running towards the rivers from the mountains. It was much like the landscape that led to Imladris from the north, the landscape that she and Halbarad had crossed together. There were hills everywhere, but this was a rugged and far wilder landscape, with fewer trees. Everywhere there were huge masses of thick and tangled thorn bushes. The path they took was a winding one, into valleys and out of them, the whole crowd of them stretched out in a long train.

Penny realised she was following the Fellowship's path, and that as likely as not they were heading for Hollin, Eregion, and then the Redhorn Gate on Caradhras. Her head swam a little. She faltered for just a moment, but did not stop, carried as she was by the momentum of those walking and riding near her.

"Pen-ii, are you well? Perhaps you should get back in the saddle..."

It was Lindir. Trust him not to miss a beat.

"I am fine, honestly."

The look on Lindir's face told her he would brook no argument, that his words had been firmer than a mere suggestion. With a resigned and vaguely irritated sigh, Penny stopped and caught hold of the saddle, dragging herself up onto the horse.

"Bloody do-gooding elves. Never give you a moment's peace," she muttered.

Lindir was alongside her. "Since you are muttering in your own tongue, I can only presume you are complaining about me," he grinned.

"Yes," she snapped. "I do not need you fussing over me."

Lindir looked hurt. "Very well. My apologies for being concerned," he said stiffly. He spurred his horse into a trot and went forward to ride beside a group of ellyn further up the track.

"Bloody elves!"

She did feel bad, though. It was only because he cared. She had not snapped at him like that in quite a while. The realisation of where she was going and the path she was taking had thrown her a little, and she had spoken without thinking. 'Old Fiery Penny,' that was what Halbarad used to call her when she behaved like that.

She sighed. She missed Halbarad terribly. Ridiculous, in some ways, given how little a time they had known each other, but she could not help herself. She found herself looking about her and wondering how well he had known this countryside. She imagined he, and all the Dúnedain, knew it nearly as well as Aragorn probably did. She knew most of them were still down there in Gondor. It would be strange to meet them all again, especially the few she had met when they were gathering in Imladris.

She suddenly realised Halbarad's sons might be there.

She was not sure if she was pleased or scared by the thought she might finally meet them. She doubted they would know about her, but it would be nice to have them pointed out to her...

Then another thought hit her. What if they were dead?

She felt her eyes fill with tears. She only knew the names of one or two people who had fallen in the War, but in fact many would have done, many nameless men. Both at the Pelennor as well as the Black Gate, let alone elsewhere. Even if Halbarad's sons had managed to join him, she could not know if they had survived the battles they would have faced: over the ships, in front of Minas Tirith, or on the Dagorlad itself.

Penny felt suddenly terribly depressed as dusk approached and they wound their way slowly into a deep-sided valley. There were trees here, but even so Penny now discovered the reason for quite so many baggages had been brought with them and why, therefore, so many were on foot.

Awnings appeared. Some were mere covers stretched between trees, but many were like tents.

Ellyn busied themselves in one group, while the elleth congregated a little way apart from them. Penny helped unload the horses, piling up the bags in a large heap that was then covered by a tarpaulin. It was not yet fully dark and, as she worked, she could see two ellyn disappearing off into the trees. One had two small spades over his shoulder, the other was carrying a rolled up awning and sticks. She furrowed her brow a little as she watched them. She was with Eleniel as she had seen them and the elleth had looked up to see what it was she had noticed.

"To look for a place for a latrine," she explained. "There are so many of us, better to use one spot than many."

Penny had wondered how that situation would be dealt with. It was easy enough for the ellyn, of course. More than once she had seen one or two wander off from the main group and reappear some minutes later looking a little more comfortable and relaxed as they had journeyed. When they had stopped for lunch several of the ellith had wandered off in a group over the brow of a hill. Penny had been asked if she needed to accompany them, but had shaken her head shyly. It meant she now felt like a near-exploding water-balloon.

"They'll tell us when it's dug. It will not take long," Eleniel reassured her. She could see that vaguely strained look round Penny's eyes.

Sure enough within twenty minutes or so Penny saw the two ellyn return to the main group, speak to a few near them, pointing back in the direction they had come.

In the meantime, there was water to be fetched, and fires to be started. Penny took her sac and those of several others to the briskly flowing water nearby. Mireth and Eleniel came with her, also carrying several water sacs. Even if a sac was not empty it was filled to the brim.

Eleniel took the opportunity to explain to Penny how the latrine would work.

"It will be screened. Inside will be a pile of earth from where the hole has been dug. Fill a jug with water to take with you to wash, and use the little spade that will be left outside to cover over the latrine a little when you are finished. They will have picked some leaves to use as well. Remember, though, to put the spade back outside when you leave. That is how someone else knows no one is in there."

Mireth laughed, "Well, yes, otherwise people could be standing there hopping about for quite some time before they realise."

Penny still made a point for the rest of the journey of going to the latrine with at least one other person, though. Then they could stand outside and prevent anyone else from coming near. This was the general policy adopted by most, she discovered, and it made life a little easier for everyone.

A fire had been lit and a large pot was bubbling away with vegetables in it when Penny, Mireth and Eleniel returned from the latrine. As ever, someone was singing, now with a harp and flute being played in accompaniment. Penny settled herself in the crowd sitting around the fire in a loose circle of chatting groups. She spotted Lindir sitting almost opposite her. She had not had an opportunity to speak to him since this afternoon. She stood and crossed over to him.

"Lindir?"

He looked up at her, his jaw a little set, but his eyes kind.

"I wanted to apologise. It was wrong to speak to you like that, forgive me. I know you were only advising me to do what you thought was best. I am grateful for your concern."

Lindir smiled and nodded. "I thank you, Pen-ii." He patted the grass beside him and she sat next to him. "You seemed a little distracted this afternoon. More like you were in those first few weeks in Imladris. Is anything amiss?"

"No. Perhaps travelling again has unsettled me a little. It is the first time since..."

"...since Halbarad found you. I understand. Really."

They fell into silence, listening to the song and watching the fire.

"When are we ever going to hear a song from you, Pen-ii?" smirked Lindir at her after some time. Penny was hugely grateful when Naurdir, who had been poking a spoon into the pot, saved her from a response by straightening to announce that food was ready.

They shared bowls. It saved on the washing up as well as on the amount to be carried with them on the journey. Three or four ate round each bowl of vegetable stew with hunks of bread fresh-baked in Imladris that morning. Afterwards, as several headed off to the stream to wash out the bowls and clean the spoons, there were more songs, and poetic recitations. It was much like any night in the Hall of Fire, only outside.

"Songs round the campfire," Penny snickered to herself.

She suddenly had visions of elves with marshmallows on sticks singing 'On Top of Spaghetti' or 'Ten Green Bottles' at full volume. She buried her face into her knees to stop her laughter.

Erestor, sitting nearby, caught her eye and raised an eyebrow at her. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to keep control of herself, but she now had this vivid image in her head of Lindir in a sleeping-bag and that was just making matters worse.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself. As she did so, she felt a dig in the ribs from Lindir. "Erestor is beckoning you over... and whatever is making you laugh, control yourself before you get there: he has Lord Elrond and Glorfindel with him."

She nodded, thanking Lindir who grinned back at her, as she stood and made her way over to them.

They were seated a little way apart from the others. Arwen was nearby and smiled up at Penny as she passed her.

"I trust you had a pleasant first day of travelling, Pen-ii?" she asked.

"Indeed, Lady Arwen. I thank you. I hope the same for you?"

Arwen nodded, and then rose to come with Penny to sit with her father and those with him.

"So, Pen-ii, how was it?" Erestor was asking. "A little different from travelling with one unwashed Dúnadan, I imagine?"

"Just a little," Penny laughed quietly. "I am not terrified of the horse I am riding this time for a start." She hesitated, then said quietly, "It is a little strange, I must confess, to be travelling once more."

"Brings back memories?" asked Glorfindel gently.

"Well, yes. I found myself thinking about Halbarad for most of the afternoon, I must confess." She looked up at them and found Elrond in particular was studying her closely. "Not only that, though. I... well... I know the direction we are taking, do I not? Both now and across the mountains?"

Erestor and Elrond exchanged the briefest of glances as Glorfindel nodded. Penny said nothing more, not wishing to be too explicit with that many pairs of sharp elvish ears in the near vicinity, but they all understood each other and she was correct: they were following in the footsteps of the Fellowship.

Yes, their ordeal was over and the trauma of it all was passed, but it was no less significant to Penny for that. It probably meant less even to those others who understood the path they were following. Not only was this a path they knew well, had known for many long centuries, but they also could not experience the same level of importance it held to Penny, dyed-in-the-wool Tolkien-fan that she was. This was where they walked, _actually_ walked. For all she knew they may have rested in this self-same valley as they slept during the light of day.

She was lost in her own thoughts again. The others did not disturb her. She cast her mind back to when she had travelled with Halbarad, how she had been so distressed and disturbed by the knowledge that had slowly filtered through to her on their way to Imladris. This was not like that now, nowhere near it, indeed, but it was still unsettling.

No, not unsettling, or rather that was not the overwhelming emotion.

It was exciting. Thrilling. Exhilarating.

Penny suddenly realised, with a leap in her stomach, that this was going to be fantastic. She was walking the same path as the Fellowship, and doing so in the company of a whole load of elves. She let a smile spread over her face. The smile quickly developed into a beam, and then a broad grin.

At last the company started to drift away and settle down for the night. As Eleniel came over to get Penny, Erestor leaned over to her.

"By the way, I want you riding next to me at some point tomorrow. You are going to read me sections of those books I gave you."

"Oh, Erestor," Penny groaned, laughingly. "Can I not have a little break for a day or two? I am surrounded by Sindarin all the time now, and am learning every time I open my mouth or listen to others."

"That is not the point," Erestor wagged a finger at her, smilingly.

"He is right," said Elrond, his face impassive but his eyes glinting with laughter in the firelight. "You have to keep up your reading and writing practice as well as your speaking and listening. You cannot write on top of a horse, it is true, but you can read."

"I will believe that when I see it," snorted Penny. "I am not an elf, I have no sense of balance. If I fall off my horse and land on my head tomorrow, it will be your fault Erestor." They laughed as Eleniel dragged her off to the tent they were sharing.

There were at least twelve sleeping in each awning, bedrolls on the ground. Arwen, her two ladies in waiting, and Mireth were all in the same awning as Eleniel and Penny. In one corner there was a bucket of water, a bowl and a cup. Washing was done by using the cup to pour a little of the water into the bowl, and then taking a stand-up wash behind a sheet held up by two others: basic but functional. Several others in their tent had already done so before the meal apparently, and Eleniel and Penny now washed quickly. The water was freezing cold and, being in the open without a fire to stand in front of, meant Penny was quickly shivering and covered in goosebumps. It might be May, but it was only at the beginning of the month as well as being night time. This was not pleasant, Penny decided.

"When there is enough cover beside a river to screen us from others, then we can take a bath and wash our hair as well. We will take turns: males one day and females the next time," Eleniel explained as they settled down on their bedrolls and under blankets.

Penny opened her mouth to say something, her eyes wide. Eleniel giggled at the expression of surprise on Penny's face. Penny boggled at the idea, frankly. _That_ would be interesting: stripping off to wash in a freezing cold mountain stream panicking that Lindir, Erestor or any one of the umpteen ellyn with them were about to come marching round the corner. Penny did not relish the prospect.

So she had the choice of either stinking to high heaven and offending sensitive elvish sensibilities, or freezing her backside off and probably getting a cold whether it was by standing naked and shivering behind a sheet or sitting naked and shivering in a mountain stream. With the latter she would also have the added thrill of worrying about flashing the entire male population of Imladris.

Suddenly she understood why humans did not wash at all while travelling. Only elves, so obsessed by cleanliness and their hair, would suffer such things. Added to which they would not feel the cold the way she did.

As Penny let her tiredness overwhelm her, she thought more about it all. She wondered if it they would all wash individually in the rivers. Given their numbers, it would possibly take them all night to do so. Penny now suspected that might mean it would be done communally. _That_ meant she would have to strip off and share a freezing cold stream with a load of naked ellith, the prospect of which scared her nearly as much as the idea of an ellon getting an accidental glimpse of her in the buff.

'Bloody elves,' thought Penny. She could feel her nerves building just at the thought. Life here was nothing if not complicated, and even about the simplest things.

"Oh, for a proper bathroom with hot running water," she murmured wistfully.

Listening to the sound of gentle rain that had begun pattering on the roof of their tent and the distant splashing of the stream, Penny drifted off to sleep.


	5. The 'Dorwinion Barrel' Escapade

I may be slower posting these at the moment, but this is a long chapter to make up for it. :) 

Oh, and as ever, thank you SO much for the kind reviews and feedback. It is always greatly appreciated.

* * *

**Chapter 5** _- "The 'Dorwinion Barrel' Escapade"_

It was an early start, of course. Penny was still groggy as she rolled inelegantly out of her blanket at Eleniel's gentle insistence. She had forgotten quite how horribly uncomfortable sleeping on nothing but a bedroll could be.

She looked about her blearily to see most of the ellith were already dressed and even those that were not looked immaculate. Penny - tired, achy and so not in the best of moods - glowered at them. She had two bloody months of this: waking up, feeling about as attractive as a troll, only to see gloriously beautiful visions of femininity.

"Do I have time for a wash?" she grumbled at Eleniel.

"Yes, if you are quick."

Mireth and another elleth held up the sheet for her, while Penny washed. As she started pulling a comb through her hair, there were loud male voices outside, which indicated the awning was about to be pulled down on top of her if she did not move 'quick smart.' She gathered her belongings and hurried out, plonking herself up against a nearby tree to finish dealing with her hair.

Eleniel had trimmed it for her a few times already, but it was kept long these days, far longer than Penny had ever had her hair. It meant it was a bugger to keep unknotted, though, given how fine it was, and she would dearly have loved to have a good bristled brush rather than one tiny comb.

She was busy yanking the comb against a tangle when there was a chuckle and mild tutting from nearby. She looked up to see Lindir, Erestor and Celebdor watching her with mild amusement, shaking their heads at her.

"What?" she snapped with mild irritation.

She still had not woken up properly and, frankly, the last thing she needed at the moment was smug elves. She strongly suspected this was smug, beautiful, 'dear me, what ARE you doing to your hair?' elves... which was even worse.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered. She used Sindarin so they could understand her.

Lindir came over to her, laughing. "Pen-ii, you cannot treat your hair so brutally. Here, let me." He held out his hand for the comb.

She looked at him in astonishment, annoyance and complete embarrassment. What, was she six years old again, that she needed to be taught how to brush her own hair!

"Sod OFF, Lindir!"

Lindir was a little taken aback by this reaction. Even though he had not understood the language, the sentiment was clear enough. As if to prove a point, she yanked hard at the knot, ripping the comb through it and taking the knot with it caught on the comb's teeth. There was wincing and hissing from the males as she did it.

"It did not hurt," she lied, not even looking at them.

"That is beside the point," muttered Erestor, still wincing a little.

"Leave her, Lindir," said Celebdor. "If she wants her hair to be full of split ends and looking like a crow's nest, let her get on with it." Penny glared at him.

"Now, look, you," she snapped at Celebdor, waving her comb at him. "I am not in the best of tempers when I have just woken up, as Halbarad learned to his cost. Give me thirty minutes or so and I might manage to be more civil. In the meantime, leave me and my horrible hair alone."

Raised eyebrows, amused snickers and hands held up in apology were the response before the three males wandered off to get breakfast. Penny had been quite deliberate in who, of the three, she had directed her invective towards, though. Erestor might be a friend, but there were limits.

"Bloody elves," muttered Penny to their retreating backs. She had a horrible suspicion that was going to become her motto for the journey.

Breakfast consisted of fruit, bread and jam, water and cram. Penny sat next to Mireth and Eleniel, her hair now presentable and tied back with a ribbon into a ponytail. She noticed Lindir and Celebdor, who were seated opposite the three, glance at her hair.

"Meet with your approval now?" she smiled. They chuckled.

"There was no need to be quite so sharp, Pen-ii. I was only trying to help."

"Yes, Lindir, but you made me feel like a little girl. You are worse than my mother at times." There was loud laughter from round them at that comment and Lindir, though he tried to look insulted, could not help but join in.

"My apologies, Pen-ii," he chuckled.

"And I apologise also, but you'd best learn now that some humans, and I include myself in that, need a while to wake up before they can respond in an intelligent and pleasant way to anything more than a 'good morning.' In Imladris you only saw me at breakfast, after I had been awake for a while. Having you lot mothering me and sniggering over my hair when I have been barely awake five minutes I can do without, if truth be told."

Erestor, sitting nearby them and listening, commented, "You forget, Pen-ii, we had Aragorn stay with us in Imladris from childhood. He can be very bad- tempered first thing in the morning."

"Only when he has been drinking the night before," Lindir pointed out.

"Which goes for most people, whether ellon or adan," snickered Celebdor, looking pointedly at Lindir. There was much giggling in response to his comment.

"Are you saying I drink a lot?" Lindir raised an eyebrow at his friend.

"No," smirked Celebdor. "Just more than some, perhaps."

"More than most," chuckled Erestor, now fully involved in the conversation. Glorfindel, seated next to him said nothing, but was clearly just as entertained by it all. Lindir glared at the Advisor, which in itself showed both how close the two were as well as how highly held Lindir was in terms of station.

"I see," Lindir said, a smile playing on his lips, and his tone blasé. "So, we will not mention the Eryn Lasgalen 'Dorwinion Barrel' Escapade,' then?" Erestor coloured slightly and narrowed his eyes at Lindir.

"No. We will not," he said menacingly.

There was much hilarity over this and Penny was intrigued. Erestor getting pissed enough on Dorwinion to embarrass himself? What a thought! She looked at Lindir with her eyebrows raised and a smirk on her face. Lindir caught her eye and grinned.

"Don't you dare," warned Erestor to Lindir, having seen the look that passed between the two.

"Now, would I, Erestor?" sniggered Lindir.

"Yes, frankly, you would," muttered Erestor clearly very uncomfortable with the idea that Penny might be told what had occurred.

"On a scale of one to ten, Lindir," sniggered Penny, deciding to help Erestor out, "with a 'ten,' perhaps, being an ellon being found naked and drunk on a river bank by the daughter of the Lord of Imladris..."

Everybody fell about at this and Lindir turned bright red.

"...What number would you give Erestor's story?"

Penny beamed at Lindir with her sweetest smile. She loved upsetting him, though she would not have been quite so bold with her words if there had been more elves sitting with them. Since there were only a few, and they were all close friends of Lindir, she considered it safe enough. She also felt it only fair to try and defend Erestor a little. He had been so kind and was a good friend to her. Erestor was now grinning his head off and Lindir was glaring at her, though she could tell he was also trying to fight back a smile.

"Well played and well said," was all Lindir said at last. Erestor, catching Penny's eye, smiled broadly and nodded gratefully at her.

"Do not think I won't try and find out what it was though, Lord Erestor," she laughed at him. "And you elves are such gossips I am sure I will learn of it soon enough." Erestor groaned and shook his head at her with a chuckle.

"You are getting far too familiar with us, you do know that," said Celebdor sitting beside her, snickering.

"Well, I only treat you the way you treat me," she replied.

It was true, as well. As formal or polite as they could be at times, elves were also gossipy, witty and endlessly teasing or playing small pranks on each other. This was as true for the adults as the youngsters; indeed there were not many elflings in Imladris. Two were nearing their majority and were more youths than children. Of the other three, only two were males and one was really quite young still at a mere eleven years old. They could be mischievous if they put their mind to it, but so far there had been no major incident that Penny was aware of that they had been party too.

It seemed that Lindir and the twins, though, had built up quite a reputation over the years.

Penny had it on good authority that Elladan and Elrohir had been particularly mischievous in their early youth, which she found hard to believe, especially given Elladan's attitude most of the time. She had, however, seen Lindir at work on more than one occasion and thus knew what elves could be capable of. She still did not believe anyone had been quite so bold as to put colouring in Glorfindel's shampoo, even if it _did_ happen five hundred years ago.

"Well, it serves him right for having blond hair," was all Lindir had said to her about it.

Penny had instantly suspected Lindir had been the main culprit and mastermind behind that particular prank. A green-haired, roaring Balrog- slayer: THAT must have been a sight to behold.

Soon enough breakfast was done, and they were loaded up and heading off once more. The scenery was much the same as it had been the previous afternoon, and indeed would change little for the two weeks it would take them to reach Hollin.

Now and then the path became very narrow, running as it did between banks of thorns, and at such times the long train would be stretched even thinner. For the first time Penny realised that ellyn were spaced out all along the train. There was also a congregation of them at the front and end of the procession, with baggages and females kept in between the two. On those occasions when they had to narrow to one or two abreast, there was an ellyn every two or three females along in the train, and those on horseback would sometimes move up and down the line to check all was well.

She asked Lindir about it.

"Well, it is standard practice. You know well that there is little to fear these days, now that Sauron has fallen. Even so, we must be careful. There are still wolves and orcs about, though it would be unusual indeed to encounter any here. Even before Sauron's fall they were not seen in this region except in the last year before the War." He glanced at her, and could see she found all this a little nerve-wracking and alarming. "Do not fear, Pen-ii. We know what we are doing." He grinned. "We have been doing it for a very long time, do not forget."

"I know. Do not think I do not. It is just I am not used to such things."

Not for the first time Lindir wondered at this. He folded his arms, even as he sat astride his stallion and looked at her, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Do you have no enemies or wild animals where you come from, then? I find it odd that you have never travelled or seen people do so, or else that your people do not protect their own as we do here. What we are doing is no different from that which anyone would do in a large, moving company. I have even seen orcs behave in a similar fashion with prisoners: they are kept in the middle, while the strongest warriors are kept front and back or moving up and down and the line. This is standard practice, surely?"

"Yes, yes, of course. Yes, you are right," muttered Penny hurriedly.

She hated being so close to Lindir now and him not knowing about her. There was something about him that meant he hit too near the bone sometimes, in a way that even Mireth or Eleniel did not achieve. More than once she had considered talking to Elrond or Erestor about it and asking whether they thought she could tell him about herself. Once again the thought flitted through her head.

"The practices of my people are very different. You know that. I have told you so."

"Indeed, and yet you seem reticent to explain them. I will not press you, because it is clear it makes you uncomfortable. I am sad sometimes, though, that you feel you cannot talk to me. I had hoped we were better friends than that, Pen-ii, in truth."

She looked at him.

"Do not say such things, Lindir. That is not fair. Really, it is not. You are my friend, and I am happy and honoured that you are. I... you see... it is difficult." Her voice fell a little so that only he might hear her. "My life before was so strange that you would be shocked and probably disbelieve most of what I told you. Lord Elrond has advised me not to speak of it. To anyone."

Lindir looked at her for a moment. This was not the first time she had said this to him, and he had no choice but accept it. He was one of the few who had picked up strong sensations of her strangeness, much as Legolas had done. He knew there was more to her, if only by the way she behaved: she had far more in common with elves than most humans he knew, let alone her boldness which meant she was nothing like any human female he had encountered.

"I understand, Pen-ii. Forgive me for pressing you or making you feel uncomfortable."

She smiled at him, and he smiled back. To break the mood, he launched into a song and Penny listened happily enough to him sing a ballad on the beauty of Nargothrond.

After lunch, she walked for a little while, letting Eleniel ride her horse. When she climbed back into the saddle, Penny was pondering on something she had noticed. It had flashed through her mind yesterday, but she had thought perhaps it was a one-off. She had been vaguely aware of birds in the trees when they had made camp last night, but thought little of it. Now she realised it was happening again, indeed had not stopped all day.

Wherever they went, there were animals visible and nearby. Butterflies flittered past, while birds were flying overhead or else landing on bushes nearby and singing happily. Through out the day she had seen rabbits, a hare, two deer, even some voles and mice peeping through the bushes now and then, or even moving alongside them on occasion. The animals were not congregating in great numbers, nor even there continuously, but the fact that these were wild animals that seemed unafraid, curious and even happy to be so close to them meant it had to be more than coincidence. She compared this to when she had travelled with Halbarad and had seen little wildlife that she noticed.

Birds were talked to as they alighted nearby, indeed near every animal was noticed or spoken to in some way by at least one elf that walked or rode past them. A doe was standing by the path even now as they wound their way into yet another deep valley. Penny could see it ahead of her sometimes trotting along beside them all, sometimes stopping to watch as they went past. Many stopped to speak low words to the animal, patting or stroking her head, while the doe nuzzled into hands, clearly delighted and responding to the attention.

It was wonderful. Penny had no idea quite how to respond to it all, so she just enjoyed it, delighted and utterly overwhelmed by it all.

"Pen-ii!"

A voice broke through the reverie and she looked up to see Erestor had stilled his horse and was waiting for her on a sward of grass near the path they were taking. He had been riding ahead with Elrond and Glorfindel for the most part. Now, as Penny came towards him, she commanded her horse to stop beside him.

"Well, are you ready? For your lesson?"

Penny groaned. She had prayed he might have forgotten, but knew it would be too much to hope for. She had put her leggings on this morning just in case, though, and was glad she had remembered. If he thought she was going to hold a book and read from it while trying to sit sidesaddle, he had a screw loose. She got off the horse.

"Which one?" she asked him as she opened the saddlebag to get out one of the two books.

"I will leave that entirely up to you. Whichever you would prefer."

Since she had read, or had read to her, only parts of 'The Tale of Tuor and his Coming to Gondolin,' she pulled that one out.

"Tuor, I think, in that case," she said as she grabbed hold of the saddle to pull herself up.

She handed the book to Erestor to hold so she had both hands free to rearrange her skirts once astride the horse. Erestor watched her with a little amusement and raised an eyebrow at her as she turned to him at last to get the book off him.

"I am _not_ riding sidesaddle while reading at the same time. This is dangerous enough already, as far as I am concerned. I would walk and do this except I would probably trip over and break my neck."

Erestor laughed in response.

As they started off again, Penny felt very nervous about not holding the reins and letting the horse walk its own course even though she knew she had nothing to worry about. Apart from the superb training the horse would have had, it was entirely surrounded by the moving train and would be carried along by the momentum.

"Do not fear, Pen-ii. She will carry on whether you direct her or not," Erestor reassured her.

"I know that, Erestor. Do not think I do not. It does not stop me from feeling anxious, though." She took in a deep breath and decided to make a start. "Right. Where from?"

"From the beginning, naturally enough. Come along. Let us make a start." Erestor was suddenly in tutor mode.

Penny wobbled a little, and it felt distinctly odd to be rolling along, a book in both hands. She was not sure how long she could keep this up. She had to concentrate to make out the Sindarin script and it was made all the more difficult by the movement. At one point she looked up to Erestor.

"This would be easier when I was still and on the ground, you realise. Can we do this over lunch, or early in the evenings?"

"Carry on. We will talk about this later," was the only response.

After nearly four pages, Penny was feeling distinctly unwell. If she were not on a horse and in Middle-earth she would say she was seasick or carsick. She put the book down in her lap.

"I need to get off," she said quietly.

"Of course," said Erestor hurriedly, taking one look at Penny and seeing how pale she had suddenly gone. He reached over to take the book from her and they both stopped their horses as Penny got off the saddle a bit shakily.

Mireth had seen them stop. She had been walking next to Naurdir, both listening to Penny's reading, and they came over to see what was amiss. Penny felt faintly foolish to have everyone concerned for her.

"I am well, I assure you. It was the movement. The movement and reading at the same time. I feel a little sick. Just give me a moment." She looked at Mireth. "I will walk for a bit. Do you want to ride?"

Mireth gratefully accepted the offer, gracefully climbing into the saddle, while Penny started walking beside her. Erestor had got off his horse and walked alongside her, his stallion following without Erestor even commanding it to do so.

"My apologies Pen-ii," he said quietly.

"Do not apologise. I am well. It was the movement while reading, that was all. It happens. Like in a boat. Perhaps I will get used to it if we do this every day. If not, then I think no more than two pages or possibly three each time. It is difficult to make out the Sindarin when the book is moving about." She tried a faint smile.

"Of course. Well, if we ever camp early enough for there still to be good light when everything is set up and arranged, then perhaps we can follow your suggestion of reading a little when we are not on the move. There is much to be done each time we set up camp, though, so it will not always be possible."

"Well, I am not suggesting we stop this, only that I cannot do four pages or more at a time."

"I realise, Pen-ii." He flashed her a smile. "I know you work hard at your Sindarin. I have told you before you have improved superbly."

Penny smiled shyly and thanked him. Erestor spent the rest of the day walking along beside her.

After a few hours they set up camp once more, again on a valley floor, only this time the awnings were set up on a large expanse of grass beside some trees. Not as many were put up as before, Penny noticed.

"It will not rain tonight," explained Celebdor. "Many will sleep under the stars tonight." Penny opened her mouth in astonishment, and then mentally scolded herself for being so surprised. Of course they would be able to tell the weather in advance to a certain extent.

A nearby river tributary, a tumbling stream of fast flowing water, pooled a little behind the trees. It was declared that this was screened enough for washing. When Eleniel informed Penny of this fact her heart sank.

"It may be some time before we find another place suitable, so we might as well take advantage," she was saying. "I for one will wash my hair, even if it does not need it, rather than wait."

It was still relatively early and there was nearly an hour of daylight left. Erestor made no mention of reading to Penny, indeed the males seemed to have gathered themselves together in a mass of chattering groups: some cutting vegetables for cooking, others reading or laughing together, still more were playing or watching an elvish version of dominoes and one was singing.

They were leaving the females to get on with bathing, in effect.

Penny was more than alarmed when she saw six or seven ellith, armed with swords and their bows on their backs, heading towards the direction of the stream.

"Well, we still have to be careful," Mireth said in answer to her question.

"And we certainly do not want any ellyn guarding us within sight of us!" said Arwen who had passed near them as Mireth had spoken. There was gentle laughter at that comment.

Penny, along with everyone else, was armed instead with her towel, soap and shampoo as they headed through the trees. One or two ellyn were around, with weapons, but keeping well away from the water and so out of sight. They were nearby if they were needed, though.

When they reached the water, two ellith were already there, soaping down and rinsing their hair in the water. Penny did her level best not to look. She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the prospect of this. She was no prude, but she had always felt uncomfortable about stripping off in front of people. She hated having to do it at the doctor's and she loathed having to do it at the gym. She was the one diving for a cubicle or else wrapping a towel round herself while super-fit, well-toned (and invariably ridiculously tanned) women wandered about bare-arsed in front of everyone.

Penny shuddered at the memory.

Worse than that, though, these ellith would be insanely beautiful, while she would pale in comparison. They would not judge her, but that did not make her feel any happier about this.

They were not a large group, and Penny realised that it was every elleth in her tent as well as a few others. The rest would come later in small groups, so that the bathing would take place over the next hour or so. Already dresses were being shed and females walking into the water. Penny noticed, with some relief that they did so from behind bushes nearby the water's edge and also that they all got into the water as quickly as they could. They were comfortable with each other's nakedness, but only to the point that this was a necessity while travelling. They were not flaunting themselves.

"If you are not comfortable, do not feel you have to join us, Pen-ii," said a quiet voice next to her. It was Arwen, still dressed.

No, she would do this. She would not have it said that she balked at the opportunity to have a good wash and clean her hair. These things were hugely important to elves and she would not have them think less of her.

She thanked Arwen and reassured her. She kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground or her clothes as she got undressed, screening herself as best she could behind the low bushes. Then she walked, nervously, to the stream's bank, sat on the edge and lowered herself quickly into the water.

"_AAAARGH!_ _Oh, _**_SHIT!_**"

Bloody hell! It was FREEZING!

Penny was unable to move, gasping and squealing as the cold water swirled about her waist. Everyone was suddenly looking at her, worried, so all hope of washing discretely and unnoticed fled in that instant. She also immediately was aware of two of the armed ellith suddenly appearing and looking concerned.

She had not realised quite how loudly she had shouted.

That realisation and her mortification were compounded further when one of the armed elleth turned quickly to a sound behind her and three ellith already in the water in a more exposed section, sunk down to their necks with a squeal and a scowl, slowly moving to the cover of the bushes.

Clearly one or more of the armed ellyn had heard her shout and come to investigate.

Penny was mortified, freezing cold, and unable to move through embarrassment and the fact that her legs were fast going numb.

"What is it? What has happened?" Mireth and Arwen were beside her almost instantly.

"It...it... it is... c-c-cold," she shivered. "I am... s-sorry. D-d-did not realise."

There were sighs of relief and some laughter then. They had obviously thought she had hurt herself in some way.

"You gave us quite a fright just then," scolded Eleniel.

"Yes, and us also," said one of the three ellith who had moved quickly to screen themselves at the ellon's arrival. "I am certain Anaril did not see us, but that is beside the point."

Mireth had explained the situation to the armed elleth still standing by the bank who nodded, grinned and went off to explain to Anaril that male armed assistance to merely warm a human female was really not required. Inwardly, Penny groaned. She knew by the time she got back to the camp every one would know even if they had not heard the shout for themselves. At times she could happily curse elven hearing, let alone elvish gossipy mouths.

Washing was brief and perfunctory. By the time she tried to wash her hair Penny was shivering so much that Mireth came to help her. Eleniel was wrapped in a towel and standing on the bank for her with Penny's own large piece of cloth as she got out, her lips blue and her teeth chattering.

They were too close to the mountains for these streams to be anything other than cold, especially as dusk was drawing near. What it would be like higher up the foothills or on the mountain pass itself, Penny dreaded to think. She was not sure if she could do this again.

They left her to dry herself off and she did so vigorously, hoping that rubbing herself hard with the cloth might get the circulation going and bring some warmth back to herself. Her entire head was numb and almost hurting her. She rubbed her hair and head hard also.

Once dressed and walking back through the little copse of trees, Arwen and Mireth reassured her.

"If they heard they will just be happy that no one was hurt, that nothing untoward happened," said Arwen kindly. "Really, you must not concern yourself."

"That may be true for most of them, but what about Lindir?" groaned Penny. She knew him too well to know that he would not find the entire thing hilarious. There was no answer from Arwen to that. She knew Lindir even better than Penny did, obviously, and knew Penny was right.

As soon as they came into the clearing, and had spread their cloths over the awnings to dry in the fading light, Mireth, Eleniel and Arwen insisted on dragging Penny, still looking decidedly cold and shivery, towards the fire at the centre of the group of males. They had taken a blanket from the tent and wrapped her in it for good measure. Penny let them get on with it, simply happy at the thought of getting close to the warmth of the flames.

She ignored the looks and raised eyebrows from one or two of the ellyn at her as they made their way past the seated groups to the fire. The three ellith sat with her so she was not alone beside it. She held her hands out to it, getting as close as she dared to it to warm herself.

There was soft murmuring behind her and she turned to find both Lord Elrond and Glorfindel were talking quietly with Arwen. They had glanced up at Penny and she realised they must have been asking about what had happened. Glorfindel caught her eye.

"We heard the shout," he explained. "For a moment we were worried."

To Penny's astonishment Elrond laughed. "You should have seen us, Pen-ii," he chuckled. "Ellyn flying everywhere, swords and bows being produced... You had quite an effect, even from such a distance."

Penny could not help but smile at the idea of it, and the ellith with her were grinning. Eleniel started giggling and within seconds they were all chortling at the thought. After a minute, as the laughter died, Elrond was shaking his head.

"Ai, Pen-ii. They should have warned you the water would be cold. I trust you are now warming up again nicely next to the fire?"

"I thank you, Lord Elrond, I am fully recovered I think. I can finally feel my head once more." Lord Elrond laughed loudly.

Lindir deliberately came to sit next to her over supper, smirking his head off.

"Oh, shut up, Lindir," she mumbled as he opened his mouth to say something. He looked put out.

"How do you know what I was going to say?"

"Oh, I am sorry, you mean you were not going to laugh at my screaming loudly at getting naked into cold water, scaring the entire male population of Imladris half to death and making them think I was being attacked by orcs as well as getting Anaril to nearly see several ellith naked?"

Lindir opened his mouth and then shut it again. He grinned.

"Well, yes I was, actually. You have surpassed yourself again. Not quite as amusing as the River Incident, but still highly entertaining nonetheless." He paused, a gleam in his eye. "I did not know that about Anaril. He did not say anything."

Penny groaned. That was supremely stupid of her. She should not have mentioned it, and least of all to Lindir who would now torment Anaril and the ellith concerned to their wits end.

"Don't you dare say a _word_, Lindir. It was entirely my fault. If anyone is to be teased, it is me and no one else." She was waving her spoon at him as she spoke.

"You know, Pen-ii. I think Celebdor was right," said a soft voice behind her. She turned to find Glorfindel was walking past them. "You are getting entirely too familiar with us all if you have taken to waving spoons at the likes of Lindir." He was grinning as he said this, clearly amused rather than actually scolding her.

"Oh, but it is only Lindir," said Penny, grinning back at him.

There was a choking sound next to her as Celebdor tried to laugh and swallow at the same time. Lindir shook his head at her and Mireth and Eleniel giggled.

Glorfindel plonked himself on the grass between her and Lindir, stretching his long legs out while he leaned back on his hands.

"'Only Lindir'?" He raised an eyebrow. "You do realise who you are talking about?"

Penny was suddenly aware that everyone had gone quiet. She glanced across Glorfindel at Lindir who was looking a little sheepish if amused.

"Glorfindel, don't," Lindir said quietly. Penny looked Glorfindel with her brows furrowed.

"He is a great and proven warrior, as well as a minstrel of some skill. There are several ballads and songs he has written that are sung in every elven city in Arda, and have even been taken West with those who have left us already."

Penny realised that for someone of Glorfindel's stature and history to be saying this about Lindir said a very great deal. She knew Lindir was considered high in standing already. It had taken a month or two to realise it, but she had eventually worked out that, just as Elrond's chief advisor had been chosen to teach her Sindarin, then someone similarly close to Elrond and very high in his regard had been chosen to teach her horse-riding. No doubt because, for all his humour and teasing, he was honourable, patient and trustworthy enough to deal with this very strange and truculent guest. He was often in the company of Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel. Penny indeed felt honoured that he regarded her as a friend.

"That I did not know, but I guessed something near it." She looked at Lindir who was flushing a little, clearly embarrassed that a jest had turned into something so much more serious suddenly. "My apologies, Lindir, I hope you know I meant nothing by my comment."

"Of course, Pen-ii," he said with a smile.

"I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable," said Glorfindel. He was still smiling broadly Penny realised. "I find it more than amusing that you speak to him in such a way, but even more amusing that he lets you. Frankly he deserves it, and we treat him in exactly the same way as you. I am pleased you feel so at home as to scold and berate the writer of The Fall of Eregion."

There were murmurs from the others then.

"That is his most famous piece," Mireth explained in a whisper, leaning across Celebdor to do so.

"Yes, well, I have seen him at work in his pranks and teasing," said Penny. "I find it hard to believe that he can remain sensible long enough to write such songs." There was laughter from the others and an astonished, outraged gasp from Lindir.

"Right, my lady! In that case, I will subject you to one this very evening. Then we shall be the judge of whether I can be sensible or not!"

Penny was hugely pleased. She had been hoping he would say that. She beamed at him.

"I will look forward to it immensely."

Lindir grinned at her.

So, after the meal was finished, Lindir sang for everyone. It was a lengthy ballad, accompanied by a lyre, and was beautiful from what Penny could understand of it. Clearly the rest were moved, as no one spoke or moved or did anything other than give Lindir their absolute, undivided attention. Penny felt proud (ridiculously so, she felt, given it had nothing to do with her whatsoever) that he was clearly held in such high regard for his talents.

Later that night, as they were readying themselves for bed, Penny sat on her bedroll while they chattered and laughed about the earlier incident at the river.

"You should not feel bad, we could all tell you stories about things we have done, or others," laughed Eleniel and there was agreement from the rest.

Quickly, even as they climbed under their blankets and lay down to rest, there were quiet tales of outrageous or ridiculous things done by themselves or others in Imladris. Penny was giggling madly, since several of these stories she had not heard before.

"Tell me," she whispered at last. "What is the Eryn Lasgalen 'Dorwinion Barrell' Escapade?"

There was a second's silence before the entire tent erupted into peals of giggles.

"Oh, Elbereth, Pen-ii, Erestor would slay us if he knew we had told you," laughed Arwen.

"But you are going to tell me, are you not?" Penny beamed in the dark.

"But of course!" replied Arwen.

Good old gossipy elves. They just could not help themselves.

Erestor had been visiting Eryn Lasgalen, or Mirkwood as it still was back then, many years before. He had been warned, indeed was well aware, of the strength of Dorwinion, and that year had been a particularly good year for the wine, it seemed. Erestor, always slightly over-confident of his own abilities (and in every other case with good reason), thought he could handle more than he should.

He got drunk. Very drunk. Nor was he the only one.

Two high-ranking lords of the court and Thranduil himself had persuaded him, in a move not dissimilar to Lindir's drunken performance, to go for a bathe in the river. While the other three dressed and returned to the halls, Erestor, enjoying his midnight swim, said he would stay a little longer. At last he climbed out, and dozed off on the bank. He woke in the very early morning to find his clothes were gone – stolen by some Sindarin wag who had thought this a good prank.

Distraught and mortified, he could not return through the gates and down the corridors entirely naked with the likely risk of meeting elleth coming for breakfast. Instead, he chose to swim to the portcullis and managed to gain entry by attracting the attention of the one sentry there. The guard, apparently, had been astonished and very amused indeed to see the naked ambassador from Imladris appear before him. The guard, who had not stopped giggling throughout the entire episode, could not leave his post however, nor offer him anything to wear.

That was where the barrel had come in.

The bottom had been kicked out of the barrel and Erestor, holding said barrel around himself, had had to suffer the indignity of walking past various groups of elves on their way to their morning repast as he made his way hurriedly to his chambers.

To say he was mortified would not even begin to cover it.

Worse, a delegation from Caras Galathon was visiting Mirkwood also, and he was just rounding the corner to the guests' chambers when he came upon Celeborn, Galadriel and their chief advisor.

It was said that they had never seen Erestor run so fast in his life.

A number of ellyn were still round the fire talking quietly, and could hear the loud laughter that suddenly erupted from Penny's tent. Erestor glanced up at Elrond.

"I am not sure I want to know," he said quietly.

"No," chuckled Elrond. "Probably best not to, I would imagine."

* * *

Author's Note: Just to let you know of an amendment that are/will be taking place (my sincere thanks, as ever, to NL & Elb): 

1. References to lembas will be changed to 'cram' since while something like lembas was used by others the word 'lembas' is restricted to that from Lórien and made by Galadriel or over which she supervised the making.


	6. Decisions and Canticles

Firstly, sincere apologies for the LONG delay in updating. RL intervened with a vengeance. I cannot guarantee finishing this fic, but I am doing what I can to update as and when I can. Thanks to all for their kind words and concern while I have been away – I am fine, life is fine, just umpteen things happened at once (good and bad). 

Secondly, the song referred to in this fic is the traditional canticle 'Scarborough Fair'. If you do not know the lyrics, then you will find them at the bottom of this chapter, and you may want to scroll down and read them first. I did consider using 'Wond'ring Aloud' by Jethro Tull, but thought that might be a little too obscure. More people are likely to have heard/heard of 'Scarborough Fair.' (I would also have been unable to list the lyrics of Wond'ring Aloud according to the new anti-songfic rules).

* * *

**Chapter 6** – _"Decisions and Canticles"_

The next morning Penny found herself more or less opposite Erestor as they took breakfast. She studiously avoided looking at him because every time she did so an image of him wearing nothing but a barrel would pop into her head, and she knew she would be overcome with hysterical giggling if she did not try and contain herself.

Frankly, it showed a whole side to Erestor she had not really seen so far. He had let his hair down a little at the feast they had had at the end of the war, dancing and laughing heartily, but there had always been that element of quiet watchfulness, a slight reserve about him that she had not seen him lose completely.

The idea that he could get that drunk that he had let himself fall victim to such a prank, let alone the humiliation of being seen steaming about the corridors of Thranduil's Halls with nothing but a few strips of wood to cover his modesty beggared belief.

It was also hilarious.

"Is there something the matter, Pen-ii?"

Erestor's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"No, no, nothing, Erestor. Why?"

"You seem a little distracted... distant, even. Have I upset you in some way?"

"What? No!" She smiled warmly. A little too warmly, perhaps, but certainly made it clear she was not upset. The very opposite, in fact.

"Ah."

Erestor paused and looked at her. He noticed that she immediately turned her head away and was trying to bite back a smirk. He sighed. He could guess well enough what the laughter in her tent had been about. The moment Lindir had mentioned it, he knew that she would find out about it and soon. He was only surprised Lindir had not told her himself.

For most of the morning Lindir and Penny rode side by side. Invariably the conversation turned to what she had learnt the previous night. Lindir was filling in the details for her.

"Thranduil was furious one of his guests was so treated."

"He was right to be furious. So they found the person responsible?"

Lindir grinned.

"That is a 'no,' then?"

"It could have been worse," Lindir sniggered. "There might not have been any empty barrels."

"I would prefer not to think about it, thank you." Penny shook her head at Lindir. "Did he ever get his clothes back?"

"He found them outside his chamber door once he managed to escape Galadriel and Celeborn."

"Well, at least he got his clothes in the end. That was kind of them."

Penny bit back the smile and tried to look as straight-faced as possible. Lindir raised an eyebrow at her. Then they both fell into hysterics.

"It would not surprise me in the least if you knew who was responsible," Penny snickered once their laughter had subsided a little.

"Why would I know?" Lindir's poor attempt at outrage confirmed her suspicions.

"Because they are no doubt a kindred spirit, Lindir. I think Lady Pen-ii knows you well."

Penny screwed her eyes tight shut and felt herself flush slightly. How long had he been within earshot?

"Forgive me, Erestor, it's just..."

He held up his hand. "No apology needed. Trust me. I have been through this with countless others over the years." He sighed wearily as he spoke. It was clear he had resigned himself many years ago to never living it down. "Now, if you have finished laughing at my expense, perhaps we can have a little Sindarin reading practise? Lindir, is there really nothing else you need to be doing?"

"Not right now, no."

Erestor looked at him.

"Forgive me, my friend," Lindir chuckled. "I will leave you and your pupil in peace." So saying, he said a word to his horse and it obediently trotted forward down the path.

There was a few moments of awkward silence at first. Penny filled them by stopping her horse, climbing out of the saddle and getting her copy of the Fall of Gondolin from her bag. She waited for Erestor to tell her to begin reading as she asked the mare to start walking once more.

"Westron," Erestor said at last.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You will need to learn some. We have two months' travel ahead of us so that is more than enough time to get you to learn some basic phrases at least."

"But I am only just able to speak Sindarin! I can not learn another language so soon!"

"Of course you can, Pen-ii. You have shown yourself to be a capable student.."

Penny noted his choice of words. She was no linguist, she had never claimed to be so, but it was still interesting that Erestor judged her against more able students he had taught in the past.

"... and it would do you well to have a little skill when faced with Westron in Rohan or Gondor. The sooner we start, the more likely it will be you might remember some basic essentials. It will not be as easy to learn for you as Sindarin was..."

'Which was _far_ from 'easy'!' Penny thought to herself. Erestor ignored the astonished snort she gave.

"...given you will not be surrounded by people speaking it all the time. Even so, it is a necessary skill if you are ever to communicate with anyone other than elves or Dunedain."

Penny had managed to forget for a few days that there was a very real possibility she may not be returning to Rivendell. Erestor had reminded her and was correct in some ways: if she were to stay in Minas Tirith, then she needed to have the language. Something inside Penny twisted into a knot at the idea of not coming back, let alone the trepidation of being faced with a whole new culture and set of problems in Gondor. Added to which she was expected to learn a whole new language, and she knew what a hard taskmaster Erestor could be once he was in 'teacher mode.'

'Fan-bloody-tastic,' she thought, witheringly.

"We shall make a start tonight. Now, continue reading, please from where we left off yesterday."

When Erestor said a thing, he meant it. That night he started her on a few basic phrases – things that she could easily use on a regular basis amongst them all without losing her Sindarin, like _please_, _thank you_. Over the next few days, though, it became clear that Penny was going to struggle with taking on board a second language so soon. She would forget things easily, especially with no means to write them down or hear them used regularly, and the Sindarin version of a word or phrase would all too easily come to her lips instead.

Erestor realised he would be fortunate indeed if he had taught her very much at all by the time they reached Minas Tirith. Still, it needed to be done and if anyone could manage it, it was Erestor. After all he had managed to teach her Sindarin, had he not?

The days passed easily enough. The terrain changed little, as she knew it would. The only thing that did change was that as they headed ever westwards, the mountains grew steadily nearer. With each steep-sided valley they climbed in or out of by winding pathways, Penny also had the distinct impression that they were gaining altitude also. She vaguely remembered from the books it being described as a 'bleak' landscape, but she did not find it so. True, it was wild and rough, but it reminded her a little of holidays spent in Scotland as a child: a rugged place but with a beauty of its own. Admittedly she was seeing it in summer and without the foreknowledge of a desperate and possibly doomed journey ahead of her as Frodo had done, which probably made a huge difference.

The streams and brooks that filled the valleys became progressively more turbulent and filled with boulders as they continued on their way. Even if her first experience of 'outdoor, communal bathing' had not been so alarming, Penny doubted she would have braved the elements in such places. It would have meant a stand-up wash in very, very fast-running cold water, and standing barefoot on a whole lot of rocks as you did so.

No bloody way, Jose. The freezing indignity of stand-up washes behind a sheet were about as much as Penny felt she could cope with.

As it was, the times when there was sufficient cover for bathing to take place were few and far between and became less so the nearer they got to the mountains. It was at least two days more before the second time such an affair could be organised, and then, of course, it was the turn of the males amongst them.

Penny tried very, very, _very_ hard not to think about that while it was going on. Even so, there was something vaguely unnerving about seeing groups of stunningly handsome ellyn disappearing off into the trees with towels over their shoulders. It had been bad enough getting an eyeful of bare-chests months before, and so she well enough knew how toned they were underneath their clothes.

Penny stared very hard at the vegetables she was peeling and gave them ALL her concentration. The shouts of laughter and sounds of splashes in the near distance made it a little difficult, though. She was quite grateful when one of the ellith started singing, with a few others accompanying her on lyre and flute.

Penny made slow work on her carrots. However, when the others with her had finished their piles of potatoes, leeks and parsnips, Penny refused their kind offers to help her. She was happy to have something to occupy her that didn't involve language lessons and yet could keep her brain busy with anything other than images of naked ellyn in rivers.

Indeed, such was her determination to blank out such pictures that she was not aware that, as she finished the last of the carrots, she was quietly humming to herself. She often did so as she worked on a task such as gardening or throwing a pot. She was usually careful about doing so out of earshot of elves, though, since invariably it would be some ridiculous tune from her own time and not something she had got to know during her time in Rivendell.

"Interesting," a voice muttered from behind her. "Simplistic, perhaps, and a little strange to my ears, but interesting nonetheless. Am I allowed to know the words too?"

Penny nearly cut herself with the knife in her hand as she practically jumped out of her skin.

Lindir laughed. "Forgive me, Pen-ii, I did not mean to startle you."

Penny looked at him, grin plastered all over his face and his hair still wet, though already combed through. How long had he been standing there? Added to which, what did he mean...? Penny blinked at him in horror as she suddenly realised what she had been doing. She could not even remember now what tune it was that had been in her head. Something entirely unsuitable for elvish ears, anyway - that much she could say for certain.

Bugger. Bugger, damn and blast and then some.

"That is rather rude, you know, to stand behind someone without making your presence known."

"Oh, yes?" Lindir raised an eyebrow as he came to sit next to her. "Why are you so determined that I should not know a song or two from you? It is clear to me now after hearing that snippet that you do indeed know some, contrary to what you said to me before. But then I always suspected as much. You also have a reasonably fair voice. Not like a howling dog as you claimed. Far from it."

He was smiling as he spoke, not berating her at all but just trying to be friendly. He could see she was not amused, though, and clearly a little uncomfortable.

"Can I help you with those carrots? You have been at them long enough. You were already halfway through them when I left for a bathe."

"No, thank you," Penny said a little curtly. So saying she picked up the last couple, plonked them in her lap and set to peeling.

There was a brief silence.

"I paid you a compliment just now, you know."

"Yes, I know, and I thank you for it. You are wrong, but thank you anyway."

"I thought you had realised the other day I am something of a musician. I do know when someone can sing a little, Pen-ii..."

"Lindir, could we stop this conversation? Please! I did not even realise I was doing anything. I was not thinking. You were not meant to hear it."

"I realise that," Lindir said quietly. He looked at her, his expression serious. "Will you ever explain things to me you think?"

Penny stopped what she was doing for a moment and stared at the ground. She wanted to talk to him, tell him, explain... and yet... She sighed. She nodded, though she did not look at him.

"One day. Perhaps. I want to. Believe me, I want to. Just, please... not yet. I do not even know what song I had in my head just now, I could not repeat it even if I wanted to. You would find it strange and ridiculous, and if Erestor heard the words I am sure he would be appalled."

"Erestor has heard human songs before. Drinking songs in particular can be..." Lindir searched for the right word, "..._interesting_."

Penny looked at him in amusement and astonishment.

"Pen-ii, you forget that much of the human contact we have in Rivendell is with male warriors."

"Even so, I can hardly imagine Dunedain singing about such things! Aragorn? Halbarad? You can not be serious!"

"Well, perhaps not those two, but they will know them well enough and laugh with the rest." Lindir shrugged. "That is how you mortals are, is it not?"

Penny suddenly realised that Lindir now thought she would not sing any of her songs because they were all filthy.

"My songs are not like that! They are just too strange for elvish ears, that is all."

"But..."

"No, Lindir. Please. As a friend, just leave this."

He nodded. "Very well. But I will keep pressing you. I have a song writer's interest, you know." He grinned as Penny groaned and shook her head. "Now, give me that knife and those carrots before Naurdir gets back; otherwise he will not be impressed."

In that moment Penny came to a decision. She had been mulling it over for weeks now, if not a few months. Things had been coming to a head and she felt, in all conscience, she had to do something about this. Lindir was too good a friend not to.

After supper, as an ellon rather well known for his public speaking and story telling regaled them all with tales of the First Age, Penny made her way over to Elrond's tent which he shared with Glorfindel, Erestor and one or two others. She coughed slightly and said his name from outside.

"Come, Lady Pen-ii. We are quite decent, I assure you," Elrond's voice came from inside.

Penny stepped through the open entrance, the flap having been rolled up and tied to one side. Glorfindel and Arwen were with him, all sharing a drink and chatting amiably.

"You do not wish to listen to the tales, Pen-ii?" Glorfindel smiled at her.

"Indeed I do, but I also need to speak to Lord Elrond about a matter that I really feel I cannot decide upon by myself." She looked at Elrond. "I need your advice, my lord, if I am not troubling you."

"Not at all, Penny."

"Do you wish to speak to my father privately?" Arwen was making as if to stand and leave.

"No, no! Please, stay. Both you and Lord Glorfindel know my situation, so it is of no consequence if you stay. Indeed I would value both your opinions on this also."

"Ah, this is why you have come to speak to me in private," Elrond nodded and smiled softly. "I did wonder as much. Well, Pen-ii, what is it? What can I help you with?"

"Lindir."

Elrond raised an eyebrow at her.

"I want to tell him about me, about who I am – my situation. You advised me, and I understand why you did so, that I should not speak to anyone. But Lindir is now my friend and... he asks difficult questions at times. Sometimes I think he already knows, or guesses near it, even though I know that can not be possible, but I want to tell him. I felt I should ask you first, though."

Elrond considered for a moment. "Well, Pen-ii. The war is over and much has changed. Your knowledge was mainly of the war, was it not? I do not see why there should be any reason why you do not tell those that you wish to tell. I would advise you limit the number you inform and only relate your story if you really feel you have to. We elves have seen many things that may seem strange to others, and there is much that we can accept and believe, but your story is strange even to us."

"I would agree with that," Glorfindel added. "Lindir, however, is a good and noble ellon. He is wiser than his jovial demeanour can indicate at times. He is close to you and would not divulge this information to anyone, you can rest assured on that."

"Oh, I know, Lord Glorfindel. I trust him absolutely. I would not consider speaking to him were that not the case."

"I think my father means this is no longer his responsibility, Pen-ii. You are free to do as you choose." Arwen smiled kindly at her. "You do not need his permission. Now the war is won, your knowledge is no longer a potential threat."

Penny nodded but stayed quiet.

Elrond looked at her sharply. Not for the first time, he had a strong sense that she had not told him everything she knew. He had tried to press her on it a few weeks after the War had finished, but she would not be moved.

"I have my reasons. It is not easy. But then you know none of it has," was all she had said.

Elrond had little choice, he knew, but to accept it. She would indeed have her reasons, he knew, but he wondered what he could be that was of such importance even now Sauron had fallen. Something closer to home, he suspected, though he could not be certain.

"Arwen is correct in her assessment, Pen-ii. I think Lindir deserves to know if only, as you say, because he is now a close friend of yours. I think it is a measure of how much he esteems your insistence on privacy that he has not tried to broach the subject with Glorfindel, Erestor or myself before. I feel sure he must know or suspect that we know the truth of your situation."

"I have told him that you know, Lord Elrond."

"Ah, then that merely proves my point."

"I am not sure I will tell him just yet, though. It will need time... and privacy. Neither of which are easy to get here."

"Lothlorien will be ideal," Arwen smiled.

"That is what I was hoping." Penny breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

And that was that. Decision made. It was as if a weight lifted a little in Penny's mind. She went out of the tent with a slightly lighter step, or so it seemed.

"Lindir? Lindir, can I talk to you?"

"Of course." Lindir looked up from the group of ellyn he was chatting with and beckoned her over.

"No, could we talk here?"

Lindir furrowed his brows but stood and came over to her. "What is it?"

"I have..." She hesitated, glancing over his shoulder and thinking they were too close to the general company and well within earshot. "This way." She walked away a little, towards the trees. Lindir stopped her.

"Careful. The stream is that way, and there may still be one or two ellyn having a late bathe." He chuckled. "Seeing us washing our clothes is one thing. Seeing us washing ourselves, however..."

Penny blushed furiously while Lindir laughed, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. He lead her in a different direction till they were out of earshot of the others. Even so she kept her voice low.

"Now what is so secret that you cannot speak of it in front of anyone, hmm?"

"I still can not relax or speak openly while we travel, Lindir, but I just wanted to tell you that I will talk to you in Lothlorien. I have spoken to Lord Elrond to get his advice and he agrees with me that you have a right to know. You are my friend. I want to tell you. I have wanted to tell you for a long time."

Lindir was silent for a moment, though a smile played upon his lips. "Thank you. I realise whatever it is, it is difficult and private. It means much to me that you feel you can trust me at last."

"It was not a matter of trust, Lindir."

"No?"

"No. It was... It will become clear when I tell you." She stood to head back to the others.

"Indeed?"

"Yes. So you can stop asking me to sing now."

"Oh, no, you do not get off that easily, young lady," Lindir laughed.

"But, Lindir...!"

"No, I have an interest. I like to hear the songs of different places and peoples. It is always fascinating. I collect such things, write them down. No, you are going to relate some of your tunes whether you like it or not."

"Argh! You are impossible!"

Lindir just laughed.

"You are not going to leave me alone, are you?"

"No."

Penny thumped him. Not hard, just playfully on the arm. Even so it raised an astonished laugh from Celebdor and Mireth as they joined them.

"What is this? Lindir being beaten by Lady Pen-ii? Dear me!" Celebdor was grinning like a maniac.

"She is berating me for insisting she sing for us."

"Oh, would you? That would be wonderful!" Mireth beamed at Penny.

Penny could have happily murdered Lindir.

"No, really, I do not think..."

"Yes, please do, Pen-ii," Celebdor was now chiming in. "It would be nice to hear something from your land. We know so little of it, after all."

"What is this?" Erestor looked up.

"Pen-ii's going to sing for us," Mireth chirped.

"Is she now?" Erestor raised and eyebrow and smirked at Penny. "This will be most informative."

Penny groaned and then glared at Lindir, who was clearly finding all of this highly entertaining.

"Really, I can not. My voice is not good. I cannot remember..."

"Her voice is perfectly adequate," Lindir chipped in. "And I heard her humming a tune to herself this afternoon." He plonked himself down on the grass next to Celebdor.

"Oh, well in that case..." Celebdor agreed.

"If you feel it would be too embarrassing, Pen-ii, then do not let Lindir pressure you into doing something you would not feel comfortable doing. It would be wonderful to hear something from you, though." Mireth was always so kind. "Even if you feel it is not of the same standard of our songs, it would be something different, something new for us. We always like that."

Penny knew she was not getting out of this. Damn Lindir! She had been wracking her brains for suitable songs over the past weeks since Lindir had been getting more and more insistent about this. She had managed to dredge up from her memory one or two that might be suitable and had been running them over again and again in her head just in case she needed them. She had known it was simply a matter of time before she could not say 'no' anymore. Well, it seemed now was the time. She groaned again.

Okay, something simple. And something short.

Think, Penny! THINK!

She was only grateful that there were not too many others within the immediate vicinity, though she was well aware that even the elves on the other side of the crowd would probably be able to hear her. Thankfully there was enough chatter, singing and laughing going on that if she sang quietly enough...

"Well? We are waiting."

"Be quiet, Lindir, I am thinking of something."

At last she took a deep breath, prayed one last time for the ground to open up beneath her and, when it did not, started to sing. Her voice cracked a bit at first through nerves, but she just stared at the tree tops and kept going, as quietly as she dared, and sat down quickly, blushing furiously once she was done.

"Now, what was so hard about that?" Lindir said to her. "A pretty enough tune, if simple and repetitive, but then so many mortal tunes are."

"The words are very odd, from what I could make out," Erestor seemed a little puzzled.

"I liked it," Mireth smiled. "And Lindir is right, your voice is quite fair."

Penny knew Mireth was just being kind, but thanked her anyway. She could hold a tune well enough and had sung in choir in school, but compared to an elf's singing voice she sounded like nothing on earth and 'quite fair' was pushing it. She noticed Celebdor said little other than smiling at her and muttering 'well done'. Well, it was done, it was over and hopefully Lindir would leave it be for a while.

"What were the words, then?" Lindir was asking Erestor.

"It was a love song and a riddle as far as I can tell. I take it Skar Borofayr is a place? And what is 'cambrik'? A type of cloth or a style of making clothes?"

Penny realised with some horror that Lindir was now insisting she sing it again, but provide a Sindarin translation as she went. He was suddenly in 'professional musician' mode. Mireth and Celebdor left them to it.

Typical! Not enough to just stand up, sing a song and sit down again. No, she needed the linguist and the songwriter poring over every damn detail!

Bloody elves!

"Look, if this is the sort of thing that is going to happen every time I sing something, then you can forget it!"

"Oh, good!" Lindir beamed. "Does that mean you are going to sing something else, then?"

"That was not what I meant!"

"Well, before you do," Erestor interjected. "I need to know what a 'sikel' is..."

* * *

Author's Note: I include the lyrics of 'Scarborough Fair' since some may not know them. This song is a very old, traditional English one of unknown origin so it does not contravene copyright or the rules here to include them – they are 'of the public domain.' There is a full version with nearly twice as many verses (I cannot get the link to it to work on here), but most people only know the shorter version (which is also the same one that Simon & Garfunkel used when they recorded their version):- 

_Are you going to Scarborough fair?  
(Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)  
Remember me to one who lives there;  
She once was a true love of mine._

_Tell her to make me a cambric shirt  
(Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)  
Without no seams, nor needlework;  
Then she'll be a true love of mine._

_Tell her to find me an acre of land  
(Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)  
Between the salt water and the sea strand;  
Then she'll be a true love of mine._

_Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather  
(Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)  
And gather it all with a rope made of heather  
Then she'll be a true love of mine._

_Are you going to Scarborough fair?  
(Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme)  
Remember me to one who lives there;  
She once was a true love of mine._


	7. She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain

**Chapter 7** – _"She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain"_

It had taken every stubborn bone in her body (of which Penny had many) to resist Lindir and Erestor's request for another song. In the end she had led the discussion over the meaning of the riddle-like lyrics which in turn led to a musing on mortal love in general.

'Fickle' seemed to be the word used by Lindir and Erestor (once Erestor had explained its meaning and Penny had managed to think of its English equivalent); that, and 'hasty.' Mortals are not very good at 'controlling themselves or taking time to make the right decisions,' she was informed.

"Dunedain are probably the exception," Erestor had added. "Though even they can have their moments. They are mortals, after all."

Penny was not sure if she should be offended or not. She decided not since they were being terribly matter-of-fact about it all and she knew enough about LACE from her days trawling through online discussions about the merits or otherwise of 'History of Middle-earth' to know how elves were different in these respects. Even so, it was a bit much.

"Lindir thought my songs would be rude."

Erestor raised an eyebrow. "Are they not?"

"No!"

"It would make a change if they were not," Lindir sighed slightly wearily. "Mortal love is all too often so..."

He could not think of the word and left the sentence unfinished, but Penny could tell they were less than impressed. This was nothing new, of course. She knew well enough the general opinion on humans that the elves held by now. Dunedain were invariably seen as the exception to the rule. Seeing the elves' interaction with 'normal' mortals in Rohan and Gondor would be quite entertaining, she decided.

"Yes, well, we cannot afford to wait a century or two before we decide if we are in love or not. Time is of the essence for us, you know, otherwise there would not _be_ any more humans."

They laughed then. It did make Penny realise, though, that humans, even long-lived Dunedain, would be marrying at an age that, for an elf, would still be childhood.

Deeply odd.

The next day both Arwen and Elrond made a point of laughingly scolding her for singing something of her own without their being there to hear it. Penny noted they did not ask her to repeat the song, though, and wondered if that was because of word about her 'merely reasonable' voice or the 'typically simplistic' song had preceded her.

Both, she suspected.

However, Glorfindel made a great show over breakfast of being terribly offended he had not been expressly invited to hear the performance. Penny could tell he was not being serious because his eyes were twinkling like mad and he winked at her at one point, but insisting she sing for him then and there over bread and jam was taking it a little too far, she felt. She knew he was only doing it out of a mixture of politeness and frivolity, not because he genuinely wanted to hear her warble at him.

"Not even Lindir sings this early in the morning," she pointed out.

At which point, just to be bloody-minded, Lindir started up a jaunty ballad.

"Ai, Lindir, it is far too early for such things," Celebdor complained, flapping his hands at Lindir for him to be quiet. "Something soothing and gentle, perhaps, but not that."

"Like Pen-ii's song," beamed Glorfindel.

Penny just shook her head with a sigh.

"Stop teasing her so." Mireth was standing up for her.

"It was a shame I missed it." Eleniel seemed genuinely put out. "Perhaps next time?"

"If there is a next time... which there will not be."

"Now, now, Pen-ii," said Lindir in a warning tone. "Never say 'never.'"

At which point Penny gave up and went to saddle her horse, leaving the sound of soft elvish laughter behind her.

The problem was that in some respects she was relaxing and feeling at home with them all at last. It meant she forgot herself on occasion. This was all very well in the comparatively private moments she had in Imladris, but on the road like this, with near enough the entire population of Imladris surrounding her twenty-four hours a day, it was difficult to remember that she should not really hum old Queen numbers or a medley of The Beatles' greatest hits to herself. Or not if she did not want them to elicit comment, anyway.

Lindir kept hearing snatches of very unelvish tunes wafting on the breeze on occasion, however. Penny would resolutely refuse to believe him when he said she had been humming, or feigned ignorance of which tune it might have been. It got to the point that Lindir started trying to make a note of the tunes anyway and repeating them back to her, much to Penny's amusement.

Once she realised that he was only really interested in them musically, to analyse them, she relaxed about it all a bit more. In addition it was clear that no one was terribly bothered if her tunes sounded simplistic or bizarre since she was, after all, both human and foreign and therefore it was (it was made abundantly clear) only to be expected. She still point blank refused to do another public performance, though.

And so the days passed by.

Every day's scenery was much the same as the one before, the pace leisurely and gentle. Even so they seemed to be making good ground. There was rain for a couple of days, which the elves did not seem too bothered by, but Penny found miserable in the extreme. She was very grateful for the hooded cloak she had been given before they left. It had been coated with some kind of waterproofing which did keep the worst of the rain out, but by the second day of non-stop rain she was beginning to feel decidedly damp and sniffley.

They had been travelling nearly a week and a half and Penny, sniffing constantly and feeling chilled to the bone despite it being mid-May, was sitting as close as she dared to the fire without actually catching her skirts alight.

"Have you changed that damp dress?" Eleniel was concerned.

Penny nodded. "Still feel cold, though." She inched a bit closer to the fire.

"Any closer and you will be sitting in it, Pen-ii!" Mireth laughed. Even so she exchanged a glance with Eleniel. "Let me get some herbs, something to stave off any chill."

Penny let them get on with it. The last thing she needed was to get ill. Mireth prepared some spicy, honeyed concoction. There was another mug of it before Penny went to sleep, and again at breakfast. Breakfast in drizzle – that was not entirely pleasant, it had to be said. The rain actually meant everyone ate in their tents or under awnings, so meals were less sociable than usual in some respects. Thankfully, the skies cleared a little and, while cloudy, at least gave Penny the opportunity to finally dry off and feel slightly more enthusiastic about travelling once more. The herbs had certainly helped. If she was grateful for nothing else, it was that she was in very capable hands being surrounded by elves. She dreaded to think what might have happened if she had been discovered by anyone other than a Dunadan or elf.

She was beginning to get footsore and saddle sore too. She had taken to using the balm Mireth had given her on her backside and thighs every night, as well as massaging it into the soles of her feet. It helped enormously, but nothing would get rid of the aches and pains completely.

'And I still have another month and a half of this to go,' Penny thought mournfully to herself.

The routine of the days made them pass easily enough. She was getting nowhere fast with her Westron, but she kept trying at it. The reading was enjoyable enough, though. Erestor found her slight obsession with Tuor mildly amusing and said as much to her. Penny decided it best not to mention the fact that nearly every Tolkien nut in her world had at least one male lust object or pairing they were obsessed with, and that Erestor was subject to many a fic as a consequence. Might not be wise, she felt.

Especially not given the nature of much of the Erestor fic she had come across.

"He was a great hero, Erestor," she replied. "A mortal who was mistaken for a Noldo at first by the Gondolindrim. That says much."

"Indeed."

"And Ulmo spoke to him, and he married the King's daughter, and..."

"Yes, yes, very well!" laughed Erestor. "I am not disputing his worth or his place in history."

Erestor made a point of getting Glorfindel to talk to Penny in more detail about Tuor and what he had been like. He too found it entertaining that she seemed to hang off his every word.

"Are all those who know our stories this eager about certain characters within them?" he asked.

Penny had to think quickly. "Well, we do not have heroes like these anymore in our own time. Not in the same way," she explained. She was grateful to be interrupted at that point by Elrond joining them accompanied by several others who did not know her story.

That had been a close call! 'Yes, Glorfindel, I know of several people who would chew off their own leg to meet you, let alone kiss you or have their wicked way with you. There are many who are so obsessed with you that they even write...'

Actually, Penny decided, she had best not continue down that line of thought. Now she had actually _met_ Elrond, Erestor and the twins, let alone Legolas, it did seem highly bizarre to think of them all jumping into bed with each other. Utterly preposterous and farcical, in fact, if not a little creepy. It now felt much like 'real person fic.' Only worse.

It suddenly occurred to her that they would all be together, along with Aragorn and Celeborn, in Minas Tirith. She blinked. Ai, slashfic writers would have had a field day in her position! She sniggered to herself. Elrond raised an eyebrow at her.

"Did I say something amusing, Pen-ii?"

"Forgive me, Lord Elrond, I was busy with my own thoughts."

It was going to be difficult to be so free with her thoughts once she was in Gandalf's company again, she realised. Or even with...

Oh, no!

A horrible thought crossed her mind.

Did Galadriel's mind-reading skills transcend language? Or would it be the case that only if Penny thought in Sindarin would Galadriel be able understand it? Somehow, Penny thought not. In which case she was going to have to be really on her guard in Lothlorien.

'Especially if Haldir and his brothers are around along with Glorfindel, Erestor, Celeborn and the rest. Gah! It'll be like a slashfic cast list!'

That was a problem she was going to have to put away and deal with as and when confronted with it. She was not looking forward to it, though. Not at _all_.

After about a fortnight of travel they came to Hollin at long last. Penny was aware the mood had changed slightly, and the songs sung (as they ever were as they travelled) took on a slightly melancholy tone, even despite the war being won and the purpose of their journey.

"We cannot forget," Eleniel explained quietly as she and Penny walked along together. "There are one or two among us who used to live in these parts. For them the memories are very fresh still. Sauron is fallen, but his works will never be forgotten."

Penny could well believe it.

Still, it gave her a great thrill to see the ridge with its bank of tall hollies forming a sort of hedge and to know where she was. The path, though broken, had been cleared a little from how she remembered it described in the books. Already this way was being used once more, if only by the messengers sent to and from Lothlorien and Imladris. It meant things were a little easier going underfoot for such a large company with all their horses than it might have been otherwise.

The mountains had swung across their path, and the three great peaks with Caradhras at their centre loomed large now and crept ever nearer as they picked their way down the broken channels.

As Penny finished her morning reading and closed her book she glanced up to see a rabbit skitter across the path a little ahead of her. In a bush nearby birds were singing. She smiled.

"What pleases you, Pen-ii?"

"The animals." She switched to English to keep her words private. "They were not here before. When they travelled, Aragorn said it was strange: no animals." She kept the language simple and Erestor understood her well enough.

"Indeed, it was a sign of what was coming, of how far the darkness had spread. It was not the first time this region had seen such darkness either."

Penny hesitated before asking, "Do you remember it?"

"I do. I prefer not to, though."

"I understand."

"I was not of those who lived here, but I had many friends here. Many died. Many more sailed West. I miss them greatly."

Penny glanced at Erestor and, though she could not be sure, thought his eyes seemed to glint as though suddenly wet.

That night there were tales and songs of Eriador and its fall, of brave ellyn Penny had never heard of and their tales of heroism. Lindir sung a ballad he had composed about the life of Celebrimbor. Penny sat, transfixed, understanding if not all then more than enough to follow it all reasonably well and learn much she did not know before.

"It must be hard to carry so many memories, to see so much," she said quietly to no one in particular.

The few sitting with her remained silent, their faces serious for a moment as if lost in thought.

"Yes, but it is the way of things," Mireth replied at last. She smiled, a little sadly. "Your lives are all too brief, and ours seem too long at times. Especially for those that have suffered much."

"You have Valinor. You have a place of rest. That must be some comfort."

"It is," Mireth agreed. "I shall look forward to sailing, to seeing old friends once more." She paused. "But I shall miss this place I have known all my life also."

A world without elves.

Suddenly the full realisation of that loss, of what the world would miss without them being there, hit Penny. And it would not be long, either. What, a year or so? Admittedly some would stay, but not many and even they would eventually leave or fade.

Penny looked around her, at those she had got to know so well over the past few months, who had helped her, shown her such kindness, who had become her friends, and felt desperately sad all of a sudden.

An ellon had stood once Lindir had finished. Penny recognised him as one of those she had seen sing or recite on occasion in the Hall of Fire, but she did not know his name.

"Enough of this," he was saying. "We are forgetting the reason why we are here!"

He glanced over to where Arwen was sitting with a few of her close friends and grinned. She smiled in return and inclined her head.

"We need happier memories. Sauron razed this place, but now he himself is fallen at long last. That is cause for celebration, is it not?"

So saying, he began a love ballad and the mood was lifted at once.

Elves had a knack for lifting the mood, Penny decided with a grin.

Indeed, the next day it was as if the entire company were determined to bring back some of the past joys to the place. Songs were of an entirely different feel to the previous day's, and there was much laughter and chatter. It did seem to brighten the place too, Penny thought, though she could just as easily have been reading too much into things.

They camped just below Caradhras that night. Penny wondered how far the entrance to Moria was from where they were but had no opportunity to ask someone. Elrond and Erestor seemed otherwise occupied, and Arwen was deep in conversation with friends. She felt a little wary to ask someone else, though it probably would not have mattered. Penny also noticed that there seemed to be fewer ellyn with them at supper and throughout the evening. Even as she was pondering on this she noticed Glorfindel was not around at all and she had hardly seen Lindir.

"Is something going on?" she asked Mireth.

"Well, this close to the mountains we need to be careful. Things have changed much, but not enough that we can assume no harm will touch us. Their master is fallen, but the minions still remain."

'Minions' was a new word to Penny, but she could guess its meaning near enough. She knew that orcs and worse would still be abroad. This was the first time in their travelling that she had been so aware of it, though.

That night she made sure the pocket of the saddlebag where she kept the knife Glorfindel had insisted she be given was facing her and within reach. It was a completely pointless exercise. If something happened whereby she needed it, she knew she would be too terrified to even think of making a grab for it, let alone actually using the thing. Nevertheless, it made her feel a little safer.

'Though frankly, with the likes of Glorfindel on guard duty tonight, that should be more than enough to make me feel safe,' Penny reprimanded herself.

It was an earlier start than usual in the morning. They wanted to press ahead and get the pass crossed in two days if they could manage it. It would mean a late night and another early morning tomorrow also.

'Joy,' Penny thought, struggling to stay awake as she munched on some fruit.

She was also not looking forward to camping high on the pass overnight. It may be early summer but it would be cold, windy and very rocky up there. Probably permanent snow and cloud too.

"Even better," she grumbled.

Dawn was still breaking as the awnings were packed away and everyone started off. The way was steep, narrow and a little difficult. Within an hour or so the company was strung out two abreast, or even single file at certain points. No one could ride. The horses were led or followed obediently as best they could over the rocks and scree.

The path wound and zigzagged its way upwards. Penny had never been mountain walking and had expected it to consist of one long walk up one long slope. She discovered this was far from being the case; rather, it was like a series of steep-sided hills. Every time you reached the top of one, you found another one waiting for you. There were times where there were occasional plateaus or connecting bridges of land, but otherwise it was uphill walking all the way.

If she had thought her feet and legs hurt before, then she had been kidding herself, she decided. By the afternoon she was finding it very hard going and had to stop every now and then to either catch her breath or rest her aching thigh and calf muscles. Penny took the opportunity to admire the spectacular views back out across Hollin and away towards the country they had travelled through.

Little waterfalls tumbled down near them, sometimes the path crossing over them on a sort of rock bridge. As they climbed higher still, the vista opened out more and Hollin and the lowlands were no longer visible. All that could be seen was peaks of ice-capped rock, piles of scree and poor attempts by scrubby plants to grow. Even the plants disappeared after a while and it was then only bare rock on all sides.

At least it meant the company could travel in groups or several abreast once more since the path was wider and flatter here, though the surface of the path was little more than loose scree. There were few markers for the path save boulders here and there that had clearly been shaped and placed along the way. Penny knew for certain she would have no hope of finding it again if she lost sight of anyone, and only a few yards from where she walked at some points there was a sheer drop of a few hundred feet at least, so if the clouds came down it could be very dangerous indeed.

There was water here, but in great, flattened channels now that seemed to consist of more boulder than water. Penny stopped to take a drink and found it was ice, ice cold. There was a chill wind blowing down the slopes from the glacier visible to her right and Penny, grateful once more for her cloak, huddled it around herself. Lanterns were lit as dusk fell and everyone packed a little closer together so as not to lose sight of each other. For a little while Penny was able to see the stars begin to show themselves as the night took hold, but all too soon the clouds began to roll in. Slowly they were surrounded by mist. In the end, with the damp cloud becoming thicker by the minute till they were walking in fog, it was decided to pitch camp and call it a night.

Supper was a perfunctory affair consisting of fruits and such things as could be eaten cold. The cold meats were finished, there was only a little cheese, and there was no fresh bread, only a sort of flattened type that kept well on journeys, but even so was a bit chewy and old by now.

There was no singing or great fire tonight, Penny noted. Instead everyone was in small groups, with individual fires lit under their awnings or near their tents. Everyone had weapons on them or near to hand. Many would not sleep tonight but be on guard. Indeed, even as Penny helped pack away some of the food, she could just make out in the mist ellyn readying themselves with bow and long knife and heading off into the dark.

It all made her incredibly nervous.

She was to discover too that sleeping on a bedroll on the bare earth is infinitely more comfortable than sleeping on a bedroll on a pile of rocks. And sharp rocks at that. As she lay under her blanket, points and edges digging into her back from all angles while she stared at the tent's roof, Penny (not for the first time on this journey) wondered what the hell she was doing.

Mireth, Eleniel and others in her tent had noticed she was awake. A song started up, and Penny was pleased since it would at least give her something else to focus on. As she did so she found herself drawn into it, somehow, so it filled her entire head. Before she knew it she was asleep and dreaming of walking green-filled forests with ellith on either side of her.

For a while all was quiet and calm.

Penny awoke with a start in the early hours. At first she was not sure what had woken her, but then she could hear the nervous whispers amongst the ellith in her tent. She sat up groggily, not entirely sure why her heart was beating so fast and she felt so nervous.

"What is it? What is happening?"

There was no immediate response, but even as Penny opened her mouth to ask once more, someone – she was not sure who it was in the dark – went over to the entrance flap and looked out. When they turned round she could see it was Arwen.

"They are readying to go after them."

Penny blinked. Go after who? A cold fear gripped her and she was not sure she wanted to know.

Several ellith were on their feet then, slipping dresses over their slips and grabbing bows.

"If they needed more assistance, they would have asked for it," Arwen was saying. "Let us wait and see what happens. It may be it was only a small group and easily dealt with."

A small group? A small group of what? And why the hell was Arwen whispering?

Penny, for the first time in a very long time, was panicking.

"Erm... would someone mind terribly telling me what is...?"

"Yrch," Mireth said. "We think."

"Something has happened, of that we are certain. We heard movement and readying to arms." Eleniel was pointing vaguely in the direction of the flap where Arwen was once more peering out into the gloom and then, as if she had suddenly spotted someone outside, disappeared.

Penny's heart was in her throat. For a moment she thought she was actually going to be sick.

"Orcs? Here? But... but..."

The tremor was clear Penny's voice. Mireth came over to her and put her arm around her.

"Do not fear. They will be no match for us. There are many of us, all trained in warcraft. They will not last long. It is unlikely they will even reach us here in the camp. We have not heard the sounds of fighting, so whatever has happened is at some distance."

The others murmured agreement, though whether this was simply to try and calm the jittery human, Penny was not sure. Even she, now she listened hard, could vaguely make out sounds. Elves tread softer than air so she could not hear footfalls, but there were occasional murmurs or the sounds of sword belts being buckled or quivers being thrown over shoulders. Within minutes, though, the sounds died away.

As they did so, Arwen came back into the tent.

"They have gone."

"What, all of them!" Penny asked in some horror, who suddenly had visions of just the few of them left alone in their one tent in the middle of an entirely deserted camp.

"No, silly," Mireth laughed quietly. "Just a small company will have been sent to deal with them. That should be more than enough."

"Father says there is a strengthened guard set up around the camp. There is no need to worry for the time being. Let us try and rest," Arwen was saying. "We have a long day's travel ahead of us, and the sooner we can get out of the mountains, the better. If they need us to ready ourselves they will tell us so."

"Indeed," Eleniel murmured.

Penny was amazed they were so calm about it all. Though she could hear the hint of anxiety and concern straining their voices, they were not at the level of near hysteria she felt herself to be in. She did not want to make a fool of herself, but she felt close to tears with fright. She could feel her chest tight and her throat dry.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit! This was the last thing she needed. She had hoped so much this would not happen and now... Gah, even now there were orcs, REAL orcs, somewhere nearby and about to be killed by people she knew, people who were putting their lives on the line.

'What if they got through? What if just one...? '

It was impossible, she knew. Elvish hearing and eyesight were too keen for any of the guards not to spot even one sneaking through to the camp.

'But what if there were too many? What if all of Moria emptied itself and they all come pouring out and... '

A searing cold fear, the like of which she never knew existed, gripped her. Hysteria pushed her sure knowledge of the fact that Arwen and her entourage made it perfectly safely to Minas Tirith for her wedding out of her head completely. All she could think about was that some great snarling, murderous, slavering thing would come roaring into the tent at any moment.

Penny was vaguely aware that she was whimpering slightly, her breath quickening. Mireth, her arm still round her, was rubbing her upper arm and making soothing 'shhh, it will be alright' noises.

Then, somewhere in the distance she heard something like a scream. It was a scream, a snarling growl and a roar all rolled into one. It almost seemed to form a word as it bounced and echoed off the bare rock of the low, small valley they were in. Then there was another, then another, and then several at once: cries of pain and fury, of pure, blind hatred.

Penny clapped her hands to ears, the panic overwhelming her and all thoughts of grabbing a knife completely forgotten as she broke down completely.

* * *

  
Author's Notes:  
LACE, as I am sure most of you know, is the treatise 'Laws and Customs of the Eldar' which is in HoME (Vol.10: 'Morgoth's Ring'). It describes elvish society, family relations and their views on marriage, family and children. 

Penny could have asked about Moria easily enough without it being considered strange. The hobbits in the Shire had heard of Moria but not Mordor. But we can't expect her to remember everything or make the correct assumptions every time and she is still quite nervous about her situation.

So as not spoil to the plot, I will explain my reasoning behind the orc attack more fully at the end of the next chapter. Suffice it to say for now that, as ever, the decision to include it was not taken lightly and only after consultation with others.


	8. To Orc or Not To Orc

**Chapter 8** – _"To Orc or Not To Orc" _

Afterwards, when she looked back on it, Penny felt faintly ridiculous. The others had been concerned about what was happening away in the near-distance, of course (the situation had been serious, if not wholly unexpected), but, Penny scolded herself, they had coped with it without breaking down and losing all control of themselves. Her sobbing, which continued for a little while even after the few audible screams and roars of dying orcs had faded into the night, had been heard by others and Elrond had come to see if all was well.

"It is over now, Pen-ii, you need not fear. They will not come anywhere near us. It was a small group only and easily dealt with."

This was the warrior who had faced the hordes in Mordor itself and lived to tell the tale, Penny reminded herself. What were a few measly orcs without Sauron to guide them to him? Child's play!

Penny nodded, sniffed and wiped her nose on the cloth she had in her hand - an old piece of pyjama leg, long since torn into strips and rags for sundry uses (thus following the tradition Halbarad had started). She was already beginning to feel a bit of a fool.

"I am sorry," she muttered, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. "It was just when I heard the shouts..." She winced and shuddered involuntarily.

"I understand," Elrond was saying gently. He knew well enough how terrifying orcs could sound to those who had never heard them before, and Penny knew enough both from her prior knowledge and the tales she had since heard to know what orcs were capable of. She had every right to be scared.

"We all do," he continued. "You have never had to face such a situation before. We are… more used to such things, perhaps."

He was being careful in the words he chose. He was well aware there was a limit to what he could say in company. He also understood, though, that hearing those cries had brought a reality into focus that she had not had to deal with since the attempted attacks on Imladris, and in some senses not even then. Then the would-be attackers had never got anywhere past the outlying boundaries, here they had been so close as to be audible.

Orcs, just as himself, Gandalf, the hobbits or even Middle-earth itself had been, were just as imagined and unreal for her. It was not simply the fear of the situation, of a possible attack, that had caused her to react like this, though that was easily reason enough. Elrond said as much, silently, to his daughter, who agreed wholeheartedly.

Soon enough, male voices were heard from outside and Elrond's name was called. Penny recognised the voice as Glorfindel's. Elrond excused himself and left to get the report of what had happened, reassuring Penny once more before he did so. Penny was already feeling a little better. The screams had long gone and the party sent to deal with the threat had obviously just returned.

It was close to dawn and Penny was not going to be able to go back to sleep for the small amount of time that would have been left to her before she would have had to wake for breakfast. Instead she followed the ellith's lead and washed, dressed and readied herself, though still with a bundle of nerves lodged in a knot somewhere in her stomach.

As the pale light edged its way over the ridges of the eastward side of the small valley, Penny emerged from the tent to find the mist had cleared and was clinging only to the very tops of the peaks nearby. Quite how many had gone after the orcs she was not sure, but there were many ellyn milling around, still girded for battle and chatting amiably enough as breakfast was readied. Seeing them armed and ready did little to lessen the knot in the stomach. Nor did the fact that one or two seemed to be busily cleaning and sharpening blades that had seen use or others were closely examining arrows she could see smeared with something black, as if assessing if they could be reused. Seeing them chatting, smiling and carrying on as if nothing untoward had happened did much to counteract the effect, though.

It was strange to see them like this. When Imladris had been defended, she had seen them ride off into the distance, never saw them prepare themselves immediately before or deal with their equipment immediately following an attack. Now there was an air about them, something she had not really sensed in elves before: a residual energy about them, as if winding down from something hugely energetic, demanding and hyped up.

Did elves _get_ adrenalin rushes?

She spotted Lindir and Glorfindel seated next to each other sharing a cup of something and headed over to join them.

"Ah, Pen-ii, are you recovered from your scare?" It was friendly concern on Glorfindel's part.

"Yes, thank you. I made a bit of a fool of myself, I think."

"Not at all," Lindir smiled gently. "Perfectly understandable. I know you have never encountered orcs before, wherever it is you hail from." Something in his tone hinted that such ignorance was a very strange state of affairs. Even Glorfindel glanced at him as he spoke. "Hearing them for the first time must have been a shock for you."

She nodded.

"I take it they are all..."

"Every last one," Glorfindel grinned. "What, do you not trust us to be able to deal with a small rabble of filthy orcs!"

"I just wish I had seen the faces of the two that nearly ran into our guards," Lindir laughed.

Those two orcs had been the advance scouting party of a group of little more than a dozen or so. The war was not long over and those beasts under the thrall of Sauron or Saruman had scattered far and wide, but the mountains were even of old a place of refuge for them. They would be hunted down and killed off one by one but it could not be done all at once; rather it would take several years. Therefore, such encounters would be inevitable for some time to come.

The two orc scouts had barely known what had hit them as silent arrows slew them instantly in the dark. Word had been then immediately sent to the camp and a party of ellyn headed off to find and deal with the rest that they then knew would be headed (albeit unwittingly) in their direction. It was not an attack. No orcs would be so foolhardy as to try and take on such a large number of elves, and certainly not with such a small group.

"It was too easy," Lindir was saying.

"I could well believe it," Penny replied. What was it that was said in The Hobbit? Ah, yes... "Elves can hit a bird in the eye in the dark." She smiled.

Glorfindel grinned and nodded. As did Lindir. The way Penny had said it, though, had made it sound like she was quoting something. Lindir looked at her, curious, but said nothing.

"We have an expression from my people. If something is easy we say it is like shooting fish in a barrel." She used the word for firing an arrow since it would have the same meaning, near enough within the context, as shooting a gun.

"That fits the situation perfectly," Lindir beamed. "There was never any danger to us or to the camp. They had no idea we were there. And the ones that stayed alive just long enough to realise what was happening were very upset about it."

"How can you laugh about it?" Penny was trying to follow their mood, but was finding it a little difficult. They seemed so at ease about this, so matter-of-fact. She, on the other hand, was still feeling quite jittery. Their obvious supreme self-confidence in their ability to deal with a few pesky orcs (as they seemed to think of them) was helping reassure her, though.

"They are orcs, Pen-ii. They deserve worse than death were it possible. They are animals, evil, vile things."

"And they stink," Lindir added.

That Penny already knew. The stench of orcs was legendary. In fact, now she looked more closely she could see the sleeves of both Glorfindel's and Lindir's tunics were still damp as if they had washed their hands thoroughly not too long ago. Even now those who had been assessing the arrows and cleaning blades were washing themselves and their equipment like there was no tomorrow.

"I know, I know." She just found the idea of lopping the head off _anything_ a bit difficult to take, that was all. Even if it _was_ a baby-eating orc. "Ignore me. I get squeamish even about plucking a chicken."

Glorfindel and Lindir laughed out loud at that.

"Ah, you are a strange one, Pen-ii," Lindir sniggered as they headed over to where breakfast was ready at last.

After eating, as everything was being prepared for leaving, Penny had calmed down considerably. Now the threat was passed, her Tolkienite-brain and a sense of morbid curiosity were taking hold. She was seriously tempted to ask if she could go and see a dead (and thus harmless) orc. She felt in some way that only seeing would make believing. She knew it was probably a gross faux-pas, but once the idea had popped into her head it would not leave her alone.

As luck would have it, of course, Glorfindel happened to walk past her just at that moment, carrying a pack over his shoulder and, before she could stop herself, his name fell out of her mouth.

"Glorfindel?"

"Yes, Pen-ii?" He could see she had a vaguely sheepish and apologetic expression on her face and was suddenly hesitant. He wondered what on earth she might be about to say.

"This may seem a little strange, and I may regret asking this, but could I... I mean... would it be a bad idea if...? Because I have never seen... and it is hard to even _believe_ that orcs..." She caught the expression on Glorfindel's face as he guessed what she was talking about. "Ai, this _is_ a bad idea, isn't it? It's only because I know there is no danger now, and-"

"Some things are best left alone, Pen-ii. You will probably be able to make them out clearly enough from the path if you want to when we get to that point. I would advise you not to look, though. They are not a pleasant sight, and are evil creatures. Also…" he hesitated. "Seeing anything in death is not easy." He regarded her with kind concern.

She had not thought about that. She suddenly realised she should have thought this through a bit more before she said anything. Her request must seem very strange indeed. She regretted it now. This is what came of opening her mouth before her brain was in gear. As usual.

"It was just that… It is a bit like when I needed to touch Elladan the first time I saw him." She looked at him with furrowed brows, not sure if he would understand.

Glorfindel looked torn between mild amusement, astonishment and a little shock. "Are you comparing Elladan to an orc?" His tone was bordering on being offended.

Penny blinked.

"No. No! No, not at all!" That decided it: it was a bad idea even bringing this subject up. 'Just shut up, Penny.' "Forget I asked. Stupid idea. I am sorry."

Glorfindel shook his head slightly with an amused and bemused smile as she wandered off towards her mare, berating herself and asking what in the name of all things sacred had she been thinking. If she was honest, she did not want to see one as much as she was curious to see one. It would only scare her silly, she knew, to be confronted by something she had seen only pictures of before now. Besides which, Glorfindel had hinted the kind of state some of them would be in. One or two of the ellyn had been cleaning blades, after all. And arrows could probably do nasty things to you if they landed in your head or your eye…

Penny shuddered.

It was one aspect of this entire situation she still had not got entirely used to: that fighting and battle were part of life here. As was death. Even for immortals.

As she readied her horse, she saw Glorfindel talking to Lindir nearby him, both already astride their stallions. Glorfindel was pointing ahead along the vague outline of the path up the slope out of the valley and then gesturing vaguely in Penny's direction. As Penny climbed in the saddle, Lindir came over to her.

"You wanted to see an orc? Why in Arda would you want to do that?"

"I have never seen one. Before last night it was difficult to really understand they were…"

She trailed off, suddenly realising she did not know how to express the concept of 'real' or 'actual' as opposed to 'imagined'. She did not have the vocabulary for it. She could see Lindir understood her well enough, though.

"I should not have asked, and it is not going to happen, so stop getting upset about it."

"I am not upset about it. I just find it strange. Orcs are disgusting beasts for all sorts of reasons. They also died in battle, Penny. I am not sure you could…"

"Yes, I know," she said with some exasperation. "Glorfindel reminded me of that. I don't want to see anything. I won't see anything."

The whisper of curiosity was still muttering away in the back of her brain, though, and she was not entirely convinced that, if push came to shove, she would not be able to stop herself.

The company was moving off, heading slowly up the slight incline towards a gap between two of the low peaks that near surrounded them in a U-shape.

"Ready?"

Penny nodded. Then paused. "No."

Lindir smiled. "Come on. Now or never." He headed off along the scree.

Penny took a deep breath and followed.

As they neared the head of the valley, Penny could see there was a channel between two hill peaks, and as they climbed towards it she realised there was no higher ground beyond. This, then, where they had camped overnight, was the top of the pass. On the other side of these hills it was downhill all the way to the Dimrill Dale.

She could just see the forward scouts, all on horses, disappearing over the horizon a little way ahead of them. After a little while it was their turn to come to the brow of the pass, turn and start downwards a little. The path, such as it was since it was, as ever, almost impossible to make out the slight difference in the loose stones of the path from those that surrounded it, bent slightly to the right, hugging the curve of the hill. On the left, a few yards away, a deep chasm opened up that slowly formed a cliff-sided valley, along the top of which the path travelled for a little distance.

As they headed along the vague outline of the track, Penny could see some of those ahead of them among the company pointing something out towards their left, others turning away with looks of disgust, still others making a deliberate point of not looking in that direction at all.

Penny blinked at them.

"They are down the cliff?"

"Well, we didn't want them fouling the pass," Lindir explained. "Dead orcs are just as revolting as live ones even if not nearly as dangerous."

That must have been hard (and smelly) work, Penny realised, pushing them off the edge. Now she understood better the furious washing of hands that had been going on back at the camp. She glanced towards where someone was pointing but turned away again nearly as quickly. 'What the hell are you doing, Penny?' Curiosity was kicking in, though, despite what her brain was screaming at her. Without even realising what she was doing, she slowed the horse to a stand still.

"Pen-ii, I thought you said…"

Lindir's voice died away as he realised she was not really listening. She was clearly lost within herself, no doubt debating the merits or otherwise of looking and yet obviously unable to resist the temptation to do so. Lindir sighed and shook his head. Well, if she was that determined to see one…

"Over there," he said at last, quietly, pointing out one that was separate from the rest and had little obvious 'damage'.

Penny looked. There were great boulders littering the sides of the cliff slope and she realised Lindir had pointed towards a blackish lump lying near one. She could not make it out properly and, fixated, as if drawn, she slowly slid out of the saddle and nervously walked a little closer to the edge.

Lindir immediately jumped down from his horse to join her. At least that way he could catch her before she fell off the cliff if she passed out, he decided. Penny's propensity for histrionics had become legendary in those first few weeks she had been in Imladris.

Even as Penny looked at it to try and make sense of the shape of it she heard a voice behind her.

"Oh, Pen-ii, don't! They are too vile! Why spoil the day's travel with memories of those things in your head!"

Eleniel had a point.

"Oh, are they here?" Penny glanced to her right to see Mireth and Celebdor standing side by side. Mireth was trying to pull Celebdor away from the cliff edge. "Oh, yes! I see one! Disgusting creatures!" The sneering loathing in Celebdor's tone spoke volumes. "Do not look, my dear," he added to Mireth.

"Urgh, I do not intend to," Mireth grimaced. "Come on!"

She finally succeeded in getting Celebdor to turn around and they headed off down the path together. However, Mireth, glancing over her shoulder to see Penny now looking over the edge herself, gestured for Celebdor to carry on without her and made her way back to join Eleniel.

Penny was staring in disbelief as she let the image sink in. She could see the sallow skin, the jaw hanging, its mouth agape and showing a set of teeth that were broken, twisted and, apart from those that were rotting, clearly sharp enough to give a very nasty bite. The colour of the skin was a greenish yellow, gnarled and warty. The hands, claw-like in some respects, were clutched to its chest from which protruded three large arrows. The clothes or armour it was wearing were hard to make out but seemed to be a combination of metal and leather.

It was like the stuff of nightmares and the most hideous thing she had ever seen in her life. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, her skin break out into goose pimples, the knot in her stomach come back with a vengeance…

She could not take her eyes off it.

"An orc. A real, live orc," she was murmuring. She blinked. "Okay, a real, _dead_ orc, but still..."

'She's muttering in her own tongue,' Lindir smirked to himself. 'Can only be a bad thing.' He was just pleased she was not throwing forty fits at the sight of it.

"Seen enough, Pen-ii? We should move on."

Penny nodded and made to go. As she did so a group of ellyn nearby, one telling how they had ambushed the orcs from the rise of the hill to the right even as the orcs had been climbing up the pass, pointed directly below them in a different direction to the orc Penny had seen.

"One or two fell off without us having to push the bodies over," he was saying. "The force of several arrow hits at once saved us some work, even if it did mean we lost a few arrows in the process."

Penny, without thinking, glanced down to where he had indicated.

"No, Pen-ii!"

Lindir actually caught hold of her and tried turning her away, but it was too late. The pile of orcs, while mostly consisting of whole ones, was still a revolting sight. One or two had been cut open in the fight, one had lost its head, and the rest had arrows in places arrows should not go or else gaping wounds where arrows had been ripped out. In the snapshot glance Penny got of it all, her brain picked out only the worst of it: it seemed as if only a mess of body parts, innards and grotesque faces frozen in their death throes stared up at her.

She gagged, fell to her knees and immediately lost her breakfast.

Lindir crouched beside her as she recovered herself and gave her a water sac to drink from. Penny took a few sips and then, as he rested a hand on her shoulder with a look of concern, turned to him with a sob, burying her head against his chest. Lindir let her hold him, bringing one arm round to pat her head.

"I did not mean for you to see that," Lindir said quietly to her. "I am sorry."

He shook his head with a sigh. He had quite deliberately pointed to an entire orc well away from the rest of them. He had known full well she would not be able to deal with the sight of the battle-butchered ones. When she had joked to them about being squeamish even plucking chickens, she had not been far from the truth.

Eleniel, meanwhile, was busy scolding him.

"What were you thinking, showing her such things? Poor Pen-ii, she is entirely unused to it. Quite right too! It is not as if we in Imladris see orcs on a regular basis either, let alone ones that have been cut to pieces. It is all too revolting!"

Penny groaned as she heard the phrase 'cut to pieces,' feeling her stomach lurch. She pushed herself free from Lindir even as he protested his innocence.

"Curiosity is not always a good thing," Mireth was saying gently to Penny. "Come on, up you get. Have another sip of water."

"I am fine. Really."

She headed back to her horse a little shakily. Gah, she should have listened to Glorfindel and Lindir. There was no way she was getting that image out of her head now.

"No, I would advise walking. The exercise and air will help clear your head." Mireth was taking charge of the situation. Penny nodded dumbly.

Lindir and Eleniel were having a 'discussion' about the merits and wisdom (or otherwise) of his having 'allowed' Penny to see such a thing.

"Oh, stop it, you two! It was not Lindir's fault, it was mine."

"Exactly," Lindir said in a vindicated tone. "Thank you, Pen-ii. You see, Eleniel?"

"No, Pen-ii, you could not have known what a revolting sight was down there..."

"Ai, could we PLEASE stop talking about it? I will be sick again. I would prefer to forget it!"

"Yes, Eleniel, stop talking about it!"

"I am not the one that allowed her see it, _Lindir_!"

Penny could not forget it, though, even once the bickering had stopped (and it only did in the end after Mireth's patience finally snapped and she told Lindir and Eleniel in no uncertain terms what she thought of the pair of them), and for the entire rest of the day Penny was subdued. She barely ate anything at lunch, just nibbled on some fruit and that was it. In some ways it was probably no bad thing she had seen the mess of butchered orcs since that provided an excuse. She would have been subdued and a little freaked out even if she had seen nothing but that fairly 'pristine' (if you could ever use such a word about an orc) body Lindir had pointed out.

Orcs. Real orcs. She had seen real _orcs_. _REAL_ ORCS!

It was like a tape on a loop going round her head over and over. Interjected with images that outdid any horror movie you could think of, of course. Gah, she knew she would have nightmares tonight, she was convinced of it.

"I hear you had a bit of scare both last night and then again this morning?" Erestor said as he finally caught up with her for the day's reading lesson.

"Well, the second was more shock. And entirely my own fault. Glorfindel and Lindir tried to stop me."

Erestor nodded.

"Must have been strange for you to see them in the flesh."

Again the careful wording, just like Elrond in the early hours – hinting at so much more, at the common understanding between them.

"It was. Very strange. Though if I am honest I am surprised I am not more affected by it."

"Are you not?"

"No. Well, yes, in some ways, but not like..." She hesitated before glanced at Erestor, riding alongside her. "Not like before."

Indeed: no screaming, wailing, sobbing, self-harm… Halbarad would have been impressed.

"You are more used to your surroundings. This bodes well for the journey ahead."

Penny nodded. It did. She had not thought of that. But then she had already managed quite well with the fact that she was wandering about over Caradhras, that somewhere on one of these peaks nearby a Balrog was killed. She glanced behind her and upwards as she thought of it. Erestor followed her gaze.

"It is a famous mountain," she explained. "I still can not quite believe I am journeying over it."

"Indeed," Erestor smiled. "Now, are you up to reading do you think? Or shall we review your Westron vocabulary?"

Penny groaned at the mere mention of it.

Which was a bad move since Erestor then opted for the Westron quite deliberately.

The way down the mountain was much the same as the way up it, though easier on the legs. The horses found it a little harder going, especially over the loose rocks higher up. Thus the journey was a little slower at first as the elves took care that their animals did not stumble.

Eventually greenery started to appear once more, and little rivulets slowly grew to streams and waterfalls that splashed their way down the mountainside with them. Parts of the way were forested, providing welcome shade from what was turning out to be a sunny day.

At one point, breaking out from trees into the open once more, Penny could see the valley below, the dark spear-shaped waters glinting between the two arms of peaks that formed the Dimril Dale. She gasped, unable to take in what she was seeing.

Seeing her reaction, Erestor pointed out where the Eastern entrance to Moria was, away and down a little to his left. Penny looked but could not make out any door or gap in the rock. It was too far away and the dwarves had crafted it too well.

Instead she peered into the distance to the south-east now that the countryside was visible for several miles ahead. She thought she could faintly make out a flush of darker green in the distance. She pointed at it, just as it was lost from view as the path turned once more and down into a cleft between two rock faces.

"Was that...?"

"Yes, Pen-ii. We will be there by tonight or tomorrow I suspect."

Penny suddenly felt sick with excitement and apprehension in equal measure.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

As has been explained in the chapter: Sauron's fall did not mean the end of all his forces by any means. JRRT himself said they scattered and would never rise again, but they were still around and it would take time for them to die or be killed. Even Moria would be repopulated by dwarves (given comments in HoME as well as Gandalf's statement in the Chamber of Mazarbul that the time to reclaim had 'not yet' come) but there were a lot of nasties to get rid of first. Thus this encounter with orcs is entirely feasible if not to be expected.


	9. A Bridge Too Far

**Chapter 9** - _"A Bridge Too Far"_

They made good time down the east side of Caradhras.

The last few hours on the mountainside were spent winding down a steep cut channel to the north of Moria and at the very top of the Dimrill Dale. Penny realised that at some point just after lunch, pretty soon after Erestor had pointed out the entrance to Moria, they must have crossed over the top of it without her even realising.

The streams and rivulets were combining to form waterfall after waterfall and the music for the afternoon was the loud splashing and roaring of the water tumbling down the side of the path more than the songs being sung. There were times when the songs could not be heard, even if Penny knew the singer had not stopped his tune. The path, cut deep into the rock and a little steep at times, zigzagged crazily, with large, low steps carved into it. They were clearly ancient and well-worn. The sharp turns had to be negotiated a little carefully at times with the horses, but were necessary due to the wall of water from the never-ending series of waterfalls to one side. Back and forth, towards the water and away from it, they snaked their way down into the shaded tip of the dale.

It was mid-afternoon when at last Penny found herself, still with Erestor beside her, riding beside the Mirrormere, her heart thumping as her knowledge of where she was, and the significance of the place, suddenly hit home.

This was the part of the journey she had most looked forward to: seeing all these places she had heard so much about. Of course she had known about the great battle in front of Moria's gates before she had come here, about the huge numbers of dead dwarves that had been burnt to save their bodies from the hordes of orcs since there had been no time to bury them and the numbers were too great to carry them home. A thing of honour, it had become, for a dwarf to say of a relative that he had been 'a burnt dwarf.' Then in Imladris, Erestor had read passages out to her from his histories about it all, about Durin, about Eregion, about the time when dwarves and elves were at peace and happy: before Durin's Bane was awoken and before Sauron burnt Eregion to the ground. The details made seeing this place at last all the more poignant.

She was so lost in her reverie, she did not even notice the worn path to her right as it joined the one she was travelling on. It was only as she trotted past a tall, broken standing stone, runes visible on it through the moss, that she suddenly realised where she might be. She glanced behind her to try and catch sight of the path, but it was already lost from view.

"What are you searching for?" Erestor asked quietly.

"Where they came down from Moria," she replied in English.

Erestor nodded but said nothing.

Penny wanted to stop and look in the water, to see what she might see there. It was a thing of wonder, Kheled-zâram, but there was no stopping to appreciate it more fully. The cool, dark water lay undisturbed, not to be troubled by the gaze of a foolish mortal girl with more knowledge than sense half the time. Even though they had made good time, Penny could sense that the pace was not lessening any. It was clear they wanted to make it to the relative safety of Lothlorien by nightfall, out of the gaze of any orc poking its nose out of Moria's gates. Their traverse across the mountains would not have gone unnoticed, even despite the business during the night. This was not the time to pause and indulge Penny's whims, and she knew better than to ask.

Instead she contented herself with watching the tips of the mountains roll by, reflected in the deep blue water, as they followed the path downhill and between the two arms of peaks on either side of them.

As they finally left the dale behind them, Penny glanced back to see the afternoon sun making Caradhras glow. She had to stop herself from pinching herself. There were times when the surrealism of her situation struck home hard. This was one of those times.

Even as she turned back to face the direction they were travelling, it struck her once more as the well of water from where the Celebrant sprung was pointed out to her. Ahead, the track led down into the valley that opened before her and in the distance could be clearly seen a band of dark green.

Lothlorien.

Quite why Penny was so nervous she was not entirely sure. She was desperate to see it, to actually _see_ what it all looked like. At the same time she was worried about meeting Galadriel and she had not really got it clear in her head why this should be. She remembered back in the darkest days when she had first arrived in Imladris there had been some talk about how Galadriel should meet this weird phenomenon that Halbarad had dragged, weeping and wailing, to see Elrond, and that it would happen as soon as circumstances allowed.

Now that circumstances did allow, Penny was not looking forward to it in the slightest.

The pace was kept brisk even though they were out of sight of Moria. If anything it quickened still further a little now that journeying was easier both on horse and foot. Celebrant trickled along beside them to their left, growing into a steady stream, wider and faster as they got nearer to the treeline.

The songs had changed, Penny noted. One or two were now in a language she did not understand. She asked Mireth about it (Erestor having left her to join Elrond and Arwen somewhere further ahead) who explained these were songs in one of the Silvan dialects.

"While Sindarin is our main language in Imladris, some among us are of Silvan descent and know one or several varieties of the language."

'And just when I thought dealing with two languages at once was bad enough,' Penny thought to herself, despairingly.

The songs sung in Sindarin were joined in by many, though. Penny understood enough to know they were tales of the beauty of Lothlorien, some had sections in them where Galadriel's name was mentioned a good few times. One bright spark even started up a ballad about Doriath, clearly showing that Lothlorien was nearest thing in existence to the beauty that had been Doriath as far as the elves were concerned.

It was nearing early evening when they reached the trees. The songs tailed off into silence as they passed by stumps of relatively recently felled trees, most blackened from fire. Indeed there was an entire swathe of forest just to their right that in the quickening gloom seemed to be nothing but the charred remains of trees, the ground black and ashen. Even so, grass was reclaiming its hold, and weeds and summer flowers, their petals closing for the night, could be seen here and there even amongst the sooty remnants of battle.

Mirkwood had been burnt and badly, Penny knew. Even if she had not told Elrond as much, the messengers that had criss-crossed Middle-earth since the war brought him the same news. However, it seemed that, while Lothlorien had not suffered nearly as badly in that respect, it had still not been left unscathed. Fighting had been fierce. Many had fallen. There were some who were travelling to Lothlorien with Penny hoping to meet friends long unseen and who would not find them again on this side of the sea.

Soon enough, though, they were out of sight of any burnt or butchered trees and crossing the Nimrodel. Penny could hear the falls splashing somewhere to her left in the ever-increasing gloom. The songs had started up once more and the mood lifted. Many got off their horses and waded through the water, little more than ankle or shin deep at that point. Penny had little choice, given Eleniel was riding her mare, but Eleniel did get out of the saddle to join Penny, Mireth and Celebdor as they crossed on foot together.

It was cold but refreshing. Penny took her boots off and then regretted it because she could not feel her toes well enough to put them back on quickly afterwards, but at least she did not feel quite as tired as she had done before.

As it turned out, there was a slight hiatus on the other side of the Nimrodel, so she did not in fact delay anyone as she feared she might. Penny at first assumed it was due to some putting their boots back on (those that had bothered to take them off – not everyone had), or else others climbing back onto their horses.

It was only as murmurs, laughs and greetings filtered through to her that she realised something else was going on. Glancing up she saw, a little distance away, a group of ten or so ellyn she did not recognise busily greeting Elrond, bowing low to him, Glorfindel, Erestor and Arwen. A few then moved through some of the crowd nearby, smiling at the occasional face they recognised. Snatches of an unfamiliar language, though clearly elvish, could be heard.

"Ooh, my first sight of Galadhrim," Penny muttered, grinning. "I wonder if any of them are Haldir or his brothers. Probably not."

It did not seem like she would find out any time soon either since no sooner were the greetings made than they set off again, this time with the welcoming committee leading the way. Night was falling and already under the trees it was very dark so lamps were now lit, little flecks of light slowly growing in number in the gloom as one candle lit another all the way along the group.

Penny was vaguely aware that the trees were getting bigger as she walked along beside Mireth. She did not have time to stop and stare, but the size of the trunks (as best she could make out in the shadows) were definitely getting wider.

Mellyrn.

Had to be.

A thrill went through her just to think about it. She was vaguely aware she was grinning inanely. She strained her eyes in the darkness, peering ahead to see if she could distinguish the Galadhrim, dressed all in grey, from the others, but they were too far ahead of her, lost amongst the twinkle of lamps winding in and out of the trees somewhere.

It did not take long for them to reach the Celebrant, now swollen to a small river or large stream (depending on your point of view). There was no permanent means of crossing established as yet: the war was won but it was early days yet to be building bridges. Moria was still chock-full of orcs for a start.

Where they grouped on the southern bank the trees thinned a little on either side of the water, allowing the starlight to filter down to them. Penny watched as the Galadhrim threw ropes across to others who had appeared from the dark on the other side of the river and secured them to trees on either side. It was not long before two or three single ropes provided a means for those on foot to cross. Penny gaped in awe as various elves quickly began to cross at speed, near running across the ropes. It was her first taste of elvish acrobatics.

Mireth saw the expression on her face and laughed.

"I suggest you go by horse, Pen-ii."

She pointed at those already urging their horses into the water, which foamed and swirled around the horses' legs at about knee height.

"Do not fear! I have no intention of attempting _that_." Penny pointed as Naurdir effortlessly sped across, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to be doing. "Not even in daylight, let alone in the dark!"

She shook her head at him, now grinning at her from the other side of the river.

Mad. Completely and utterly bonkers.

"You can cross with me," Eleniel said to her. Indeed most of those on horseback had offered places to others and nearly every horse now had two if not three riders on its back. It would make the crossing that much quicker, given how many of them there were.

"You are sure you will not attempt it?" Celebdor asked, trying to look serious. "You are not scared of a tiny piece of rope, are you?"

"No, I am scared of falling _off_ a tiny piece rope. In fact, that is the point: it is a TINY piece of rope. All very well for elves to go dancing about on it, but not me. No, thank you."

"Oh, come on, Pen-ii," Celebdor grinned, grabbing Penny by the wrist and attempting to drag her towards the riverbank. "It is easy enough!"

"Oh, stop it!" Mireth laughed, even as Penny struggled against his hold. "Leave her alone! Stop teasing her!"

"Yes, stop teasing me, Celebdor!"

"Is there a problem?" Lindir stopped his stallion beside them, one eyebrow raised and a faint smile on his face.

"Yes, Celebdor thinks I should fall into the Celebrant," smirked Penny, finally wriggling free of him.

"No, I do not!"

Celebdor did 'injured innocence' very well.

"You want me to fall off a rope and into a river! I do not think that is very friendly."

Mireth laughed. "She has a point."

"Who says you will fall?" Lindir was grinning. "You may surprise yourself."

"Oh, not you as well," Penny muttered.

"What was that?" Lindir was already off his horse, sharing a glance and grin with Celebdor.

"Nothing." Penny turned to climb up beside Eleniel, grasping hold of the saddle to pull herself up. "Now if you will excuse-ARGH!"

Lindir grabbed her under her arms and Celebdor caught hold of her ankles. Sniggering like schoolboys, they ran towards the nearest rope with her. Mireth was calling out for them to stop but laughing too hard to make herself particularly coherent. Eleniel just watched in astonishment.

"What are you _doing_!" she cried before collapsing into giggles.

Penny was wriggling like mad and screeching like a banshee. She had lapsed into English in her fury, which was probably no bad thing given the names she was using for Lindir and Celebdor at that precise moment.

"PUT ME DOWN!"

"No. And if you do not stop wriggling, you _will_ land in the Celebrant," chortled Lindir.

"THIS IS _NOT_ FUNNY!"

"I beg to differ," grinned Celebdor, turning to give a quick wave to the group of elves now forming on the opposite side of the bank to watch the proceedings with an amused air. As he made to step backwards onto the bridge, he paused. "Pen-ii, stop moving. You do not want to get wet, I am sure."

Penny went as stiff as a board in fright. She whimpered, screwed her eyes shut and muttered expletives under her breath.

For a moment nothing happened.

Then she felt herself being lowered gently to the ground to sound of laughter.

"Ai, Pen-ii, as if we would do that to you."

"Not that we could not do it, but I do not trust you to not start wriggling and squealing halfway across," Lindir sniggered. "You landing in the river is one thing. Taking Celebdor and myself with you is something else entirely."

Penny coloured the air blue. The phrase 'bloody elves' (with notable additions) was used rather excessively.

"Do I_ want_ a translation of all that?" Lindir asked, one eyebrow raised and a faint smirk still on his face.

"It would give me great pleasure. Unfortunately I do not have the vocabulary."

"Ah," said Celebdor. He caught Lindir's eye and the pair broke into hysterical sniggering.

Penny narrowed her eyes at them.

"Argh! I give up!"

She stomped over to Eleniel, hauled herself up into the saddle and pointedly looked in the opposite direction from Lindir and Celebdor, now trying to make apologies in between grins and snickering.

Penny noticed Eleniel was making strange spluttering noises.

"Et tu, Brute?" she murmured.

"Do not be upset, Pen-ii. They meant no harm by it. And the expression on your face was priceless!" Eleniel was giggling, but kindly.

"When you have quite finished the fun and games," a quiet yet clearly amused voice said on Penny's right, "Do you think we could actually cross the river, hmm?"

"Of course, Erestor. My apologies," Eleniel murmured, muttering to the horse and moving forward towards the Celebrant.

Penny glanced at Erestor and could see a smile playing on his lips and his eyes twinkling in the dark. He clearly caught her look and his face broke into a grin. Before she could say anything he moved off towards Lindir and Celebdor.

"Ai, you two…!" he chuckled.

Laughter met his words.

With many sharing horses and others able to quickly run across the ropes, crossing the river did not take too long at all. Those who had led the crossing did not wait but carried on into the trees a little way before stopping and setting up camp for the night. With the numbers involved it was easier to use awnings than try and house people in the few talans round about. Also, now they had crossed the Celebrant, there was no concern about sleeping on the ground. It was why they had risen so early and pushed so hard all day: to get this far and within the safety of Lothlorien's borders.

Not all of the Galadhrim who had greeted the party were still with them since some had stayed on the south side of the river and had returned to guard duty on the borders. However, their numbers had been replaced if not swelled by those who had been waiting on the northern side. Penny was not entirely sure how many, but at least twenty Galadhrim seemed to be with them now. They showed great respect to Elrond, Arwen, Glorfindel and Erestor. Lindir they seemed to know also, inclining their heads and murmuring greetings towards him.

As the evening meal was prepared and everyone grouped round the fire, Penny watched as these new faces shared stories, sang songs, swapped jokes and generally made themselves at home. She was completely ignored. The few times one or two of them noticed her, their gazes slid over her with a mild curiosity, if that, and then moved on. Penny was a little surprised her being among them all did not excite more comment, but thought little of it as she ate. Afterwards she was to discover her presence had already been 'explained.'

Lindir introduced her to two or three of those he knew, explaining it was many years since he was last in Lothlorien and that several of the Galadhrim with them were all youngsters he had not met before.

"And by 'youngsters' you mean?"

"Well, the youngest here is six hundred or so," one of the Galadhrim replied. His tone was merely polite.

"You speak Sindarin?" another asked her.

"I have learnt it at Imladris, yes. I make mistakes and am still learning, but-"

"That was gracious of Lord Elrond to gift you with our language. It is an honour for you."

"I realise that. I am most grateful for-"

"You say she lost her memory, Lindir?"

"Indeed. One of the Dunedain found her. Halbarad?"

They shook their heads, they did not know him.

"He is a kinsman of Estel's."

Ah, _him_ they knew. Of course.

"He found her and brought her to Imladris."

'Yes, I_ am_ standing right here!' Penny fumed inside her head.

"And he allowed her to stay? Lord Elrond is indeed most kind."

"Yes, he is," Penny tried to interrupt, but got no further.

"So she has no idea where she comes from? How extraordinary. The poor child."

"Excuse me, I am _not_ a ch-"

Lindir's glare silenced Penny instantly.

"Humans are so frail," one of the Galadhrim mused. "I do pity them at times."

Penny raised an eyebrow, opened her mouth to say something, saw Lindir looking at her and said nothing.

"It must have been very hard for you." One of the Galadhrim finally addressed her directly. His tone was kindly but pitying, as if talking to an injured infant.

"It was. The elves of Imladris have shown much patience and kindness. I can never repay them."

The Galadhrim responded as if that was only to be expected, right and proper – not simply that she would have been shown kindness, but that obviously, as a mere mortal, of course she could never hope to repay them. They clearly thought it mildly amusing that she even hoped she could.

Penny knew elves could be sniffy about mortals. She had had some impression to that effect from several in Imladris who were never unkind towards her but at times a little indifferent. The isolation of Lothlorien bred that sentiment all the stronger, it would seem, as the Galadhrim continued to discuss her story with Lindir over the top of her head.

The thing was… she could tell they were not being rude, were not doing it deliberately. They were kind, courteous, even made sure she had enough to eat and drink, but at the same time she was merely a mortal and not nearly as important or interesting as anyone else there. No sooner had her history (such as it was) been established than the conversation moved on to other matters and she was entirely forgotten once more.

Later in the evening Lindir managed to talk quietly to her.

"You have to forgive them if they seem a little… distant."

"Try 'rude' or 'condescending,' Lindir."

"Now, that is unfair. They were very kind to you…"

"They discussed me with you! I was standing right there and they were talking to you not me!"

"Well, they know me. And besides, you had just said your Sindarin was not perfect."

Penny gave him a 'look'.

"They meant nothing by it," he smiled. "They are unused to mortals here. Ah, you are young. You would not understand."

Penny glared at him. Clearly it was catching whatever it was. She was aware they were likely to be staying here a week or thereabouts, but if she was going to be the 'idiot child' (i.e. stupid mortal) for the duration there may be hell to pay at some point. She was 'due' in a day or two too, which would not help her tolerance levels one iota.

Gah, this was going to be a nightmare, she could feel it in her waters.

"Bloody elves," she muttered as she headed over to her tent.

"You are going to have to translate that phrase for me sometime, you know," Lindir grinned at her retreating back, getting only a 'hrumpf' by way of response.

Lindir knew well enough the phrase in question was not flattering if only by virtue of the fact that it was always said in her own tongue and only when she was supremely irritated by something. Frankly, he dreaded to think but considered it could not be much worse than some of the things he had been called in his time. Glorfindel had been particularly inventive in his insults after the hair-dying incident, after all, since he (like Penny herself and everyone else) had guessed it was Lindir who had been responsible even though nothing had ever been proved.

He chuckled to himself, and then took in a deep breath as he headed back to the fire and company. Ai, it was good to be back in Lothlorien once more.

"Lindir?"

Lindir glanced towards Lord Elrond to see Erestor with him and the two sitting a little apart from the rest.

"Might I have a word?"

"Of course." Elrond stepped over to them, gladly accepting Erestor's offer of a cup of wine.

"That was a cruel trick you played on Lady Pen-ii today," Elrond chuckled. "You and Celebdor should be ashamed."

"Oh, nonsense!" Lindir laughed. "She is used to us by now. She would do much the same to us in return if she felt she could."

"Indeed?" Erestor raised an eyebrow. "Actually, I think you may be right, there, Lindir. She is something of a 'free spirit' compared to most mortals."

Lindir said nothing but his face spoke volumes.

"I just wanted to ask you not to do too much to bring her to attention again, Lindir," Elrond said quietly. "Her presence amongst us was questioned by the border guards and they seemed a little concerned when they realised she was a stranger even to us in some respects. They have accepted though that she is travelling with us, is known to us as trustworthy… My word is enough, thankfully."

"I am surprised Lady Galadriel did not warn them a mortal…"

"She did," Erestor interrupted, "but said little more than that. It may be that Galadriel did not want to bring too much attention to her either. She has not yet met Pen-ii, after all. She only has the few reports we have sent her."

Lindir looked at them. Galadriel had been sent information about Pen-ii? Why? Was it thought she perhaps could shed some light on who she was? Did they even know?

Penny knew. Lindir had sensed that very early on: Penny knew exactly who she was and where she came from.

"For the time being, we would like her to go as unnoticed as possible, though that is a little difficult given she is the only mortal amongst us," Elrond continued. "Once she and Galadriel have spoken it may be things will change. Ultimately it is down to Pen-ii, not us, as to what she may wish to have said about her."

Lindir was silent for a moment. "I take it you know she has spoken to me, then? Hinted there is more-"

Erestor held up a hand, instructing Lindir to stop talking, as he glanced over Lindir's shoulder at someone clearly within earshot.

Elrond nodded by way of reply to Lindir.

"It will become clear, Lindir. Forgive me for not having taken you into my confidence. You will have to forgive Pen-ii the same also. You will understand why. In the meantime if you could restrain yourself, Celebdor, or anyone else from doing anything that may make her scream, shout, rant or do anything else that elicits comments and raised eyebrows from our hosts then I would be most grateful."

Elrond had the barest hint of a smile as he spoke. He clearly had been amused by the antics at the river, but was still making it clear it was not wholly wise given the circumstances. 'Whatever those circumstances may be,' Lindir mused.

"Of course, Elrond. Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," Elrond smiled. "Though given her reaction to the idea of walking along some rope above a river, I wonder how she will cope with talans in the height of the trees of Lothlorien."

"Well, we shall cross that _bridge_ when we come to it," beamed Lindir.

Elrond and Erestor looked at him, shaking their heads but unable to restrain a chuckle.

"Sorry," Lindir sniggered. "I could not resist."

* * *

Note: Just to say thank you to all who take the time to read and especially to those who review and let me know their thoughts - good or bad, con crit, support or pointing out of mistakes. I read them all and appreciate every one of them - please forgive the fact that I can not possibly reply to them all individually. 

EDIT - Thank you to the reviewer who pointed out I had put 'Miriel' twice instead of Mireth. head desk


	10. Love and Marriage

Advance author's note: 'Brian the Computer Nerd' was mentioned back in chapter 10 (_"The Calm Before The Storm"_) of 'Don't Panic!'. The ability of elves to sense virginity (or rather the lack of it) in humans was used (and explained in a footnote) in Chapter 20 (_"Open Mouth, Change Feet"_).

* * *

**Chapter 10: **_"Love and Marriage"  
_

After the horrendous night before, both in terms of sleeping on rocks and being woken in the small hours by the butcher of orcs somewhere in the dark, Penny was grateful to have a full night's undisturbed sleep. She had also been exhausted from the long day's travel. The soft forest floor seemed like a four-poster compared to the shards of mountain rock she had bedded down on on top of Caradhras. She went to bed early and slept like a log.

"Up you get, sleepy." Mireth was gently shaking her awake.

Penny muttered something, turned and continued snoring. Mireth shook her again, saying her name.

"No, Brian, get _off_!"

Mireth blinked. "Who is Brai-yan?"

Penny sat bolt upright, suddenly wide awake.

"What? Eh? What did you say?"

Mireth sat back on her haunches, a bemused expression on her face.

"Who is Brai-yan?"

Penny went an interesting shade of pink. The ellith in the tent laughed.

"Is he your beau, Pen-ii?" Arwen asked with a smile.

"Husband, surely?" one of the elleth corrected her.

"No, she is not married…"

Eleniel suddenly stopped speaking and froze. She winced slightly. Even as she did so, a vaguely uncomfortable silence settled over the ellith for the briefest moment, before they suddenly became terribly busy. Penny furrowed her brows at them. What the hell was all that about? She was barely awake, for goodness sake!

"Forgive me, Pen-ii," Eleniel was murmuring. "I did not mean to embarrass you…"

"I am not embarrassed. Why would I be?"

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a glance.

"No reason," Eleniel muttered, her smile plastering itself a little too quickly onto her face.

"No, indeed, no reason at all," Mireth agreed hurriedly. "Now, come on, up you get, we need to get moving soon."

Penny, still groggy, allowed herself to be pulled up to her feet, vaguely aware there was now whispering going on in a far corner of the tent. Arwen glared at the perpetrators who quickly scuttled outside to continue their gossiping elsewhere.

It was only as the splash of cold water hit her face as she washed, that Penny suddenly realised what all the fuss had to be about.

Of all the damn liberties…!

How bloody DARE they! Fair enough, things were very different round here concerning such matters, but that did not mean they had to…!

Penny felt a wave of embarrassment and fury hit her. This was personal, private, and how bloody DARE elves be able to 'sense' these sorts of things! She felt vaguely humiliated and hugely embarrassed that such a thing could become public knowledge so easily.

Wait a second… How had Mireth known his name was…?

"Mireth?"

Mireth looked up at Penny over breakfast.

"Was I talking in my sleep?"

Mireth grinned and sniggered. "I am sorry to say you were. Only as I tried to wake you, though."

Penny felt her face burn. What on earth had she said? She hoped to all things holy it was in English and thus incomprehensible. She decided she did not want to know.

A little while later and they had all started off through the trees once more, the light filtering down through the green canopy above. As Penny rode down the path, she spotted Lindir waiting for her to one side up ahead. As she neared him, she was not overly pleased to see he wore an amused expression, the sort of expression that, where Lindir was concerned, never boded well. When she finally reached him, he slowly fell into step beside her, a faint smirk forming on his face.

"Who is Breen?"

Penny could not have looked more shocked and appalled if he had whacked her in the face with a wet fish. She spluttered incoherently for a moment. Somewhere just behind her, Mireth slapped Celebdor on the arm hissing something about 'you and your big mouth, I told you not to tell anyone!'

"I do not BELIEVE this! Has this gone all the way round the camp?"

"Only that you were mentioning the name of someone in your sleep," he smirked, "and that you got very shy and embarrassed when you were asked about it."

He did not, of course, tell her what the rest of the gossip entailed. Celebdor had indeed told him about 'Bree-yin' (or something close to that), but Lindir had heard that and more from other sources. Lindir had been quick to reprimand those involved in spreading the 'and more': it was not the sort of thing that should be made public knowledge.

Lindir, as one of the small group who knew Penny well, had been told by her long before that she was not married and therefore had known for a long time what the 'situation' was. Gossip he may be, but there was gossip and then there was _gossip_, and besides which he considered Penny to be a friend of his.

He had not been surprised, though, when he had first realised. This was how humans were, and there was something about Penny that made it clear she behaved very differently from your average human and felt constrained by most norms of society, both human and elvish. He knew her too well to think her a 'loose woman', though. It had been a fiancée, perhaps? Given she was lying about her past, he suspected she may even be lying about not being married, though why this should be he did not know.

He would find out soon enough, he reasoned.

In the meantime, though, the idea that she was mentioning male names in her sleep was too good an opportunity to miss. She was so easy to goad and highly entertaining when irritated.

"I just wondered who he was, that was all," he continued, his voice calm as he tried to maintain a bearing of total innocence.

Penny tried 'covering tactics'. "What makes you so certain he is a 'he'?"

"Is he not?"

Penny looked shifty.

"So he is?"

Penny scowled.

"Ah, like that, is it?" Lindir sniggered.

"Could we drop this conversation, do you think?"

"But I am interested!" Lindir insisted.

"No, you are not, you just like tormenting people. How long will it take us to reach Caras Galadhon?"

"Do not change the subject. Tell me about Breen." The smirk was now a broad grin.

"His name is not 'Breen,' it is 'Brian,' and I do not want to talk about it."

"'It'?" Lindir could not help but laugh.

"It, him… same thing."

"Ah."

"What do you mean 'ah'?"

"Nothing," Lindir sniggered. "We shall get to Caras Galadhon tomorr-."

"Now _you_ are changing the subject," Penny intervened hotly. "What do you mean by 'ah'?"

"Berating Lindir again, Lady Pen-ii?"

"Well, someone has to, Erestor."

"Very true."

Penny had never been so grateful for a Westron lesson in her life.

Lunch was, as usual, a fairly haphazard affair, with everyone helping themselves to fruit, what bread was left as well as a little cheese and then sitting in small groups under the huge trees. Penny spotted Arwen wandering through the groups as if looking for someone. As soon as she saw Penny, she beckoned her over, leading her away from the company a little distance under the shade of the trees. Even then she kept her voice down.

"I realise this is delicate, Pen-ii, and you must forgive me for even broaching the subject, but I wanted to let you know that..." Arwen paused, as if a little hesitant as to how best to continue. "Well, I have let it be known that you say you are not married simply because you have no memory of being so. With Ada's permission, I have also hinted that we suspect you may even be a widow, hence the… discrepancy."

Penny blinked. 'Discrepancy'? How delicately put.

"I realise things are…" Arwen paused, glancing round her before lowering her voice still further. "…different where you come from. However, this should stop the talk."

Penny was mortified.

"There has been talk?" she asked, incredulously.

It was stupid question, she told herself. Of course there would have been talk. She was surrounded by a horde of gossipy elves, wasn't she? They would not be able to help themselves. 'Damn elves poking their noses into things that are none of their damn business!'

Arwen smiled kindly and a little sadly. "You need not worry. Trust me. The perpetrators are feeling very much ashamed now my explanation has reached them, so I understand."

'Good!' thought Penny.

"Thank you, my lady. I would never have thought of such a thing myself. I am sorry, I am at a loss to know-"

"You do not need to apologise. It is not your fault that we elves are sensitive about certain matters, and I realise our ways are very different to yours. The fault lies not with you but with others who fail to see when something should not be broadcast from the treetops."

'Broadcast from the…!' Penny groaned inside, her sense of shame and humiliation growing all the while, and along with it a sense of supreme frustration and irritation with damn busy-body elves.

Arwen could sense her mixture of emotions and reached out one hand to stroke Penny's cheek in a gesture that was at once comforting, reassuring and vaguely maternal. She said nothing, but then nothing needed to be said.

Penny returned with her to the general company somewhat wary at first, given she was now well aware that the 'discrepancy' of her non-virgin-yet-unmarried status had been 'broadcast from the treetops' to all and sundry. As she sat down quietly next to Mireth and Naurdir, she felt very small and sad for a moment. It was not nice to be talked about and she could just imagine the sneering 'oh, well what do you expect from a mortal' tone that some of them might have used. Imagining that, though, was enough to ignite the fury within her.

Damn them! Damn them all! It was none of their bloody business! It was _nobody's_ business, frankly, other than her own. It was THEIR problem, not hers!

"Just _let_ someone say something. If just _one_ person says _one_ word…" she muttered angrily under her breath. "I _dare_ them."

Woe betide any elf silly enough to try it.

It was difficult to stay angry long, though, given the surroundings. As they travelled eastwards at a moderate pace, the Celebrant gurgling away to their right somewhere, Penny could not help but gaze in awe at the massive mallorns that stretched away to either side of her.

And she knew that the ones in Caras Galadhon were bigger still.

She was walking, with Eleniel, alongside Arwen. Arwen had made a point of asking Penny to travel with her for the afternoon, as much to make it clear to the gossips that their actions of the morning were not appreciated, and that if Arwen did not have a problem with Penny then no-one else should either.

Penny realised what she was doing and was very grateful.

The sensation of the place was hard to define. Penny could remember the way Frodo and Sam had described it in the books, but she did not feel it quite as strongly as they had. Perhaps it was because she was not in the presence of the One, or because Nenya's power was already waning a little, or possibly even because, as a rubbish human, she was just less intuitive than a hobbit. Whatever the reason (and it could even have been a combination of all three), she felt _something_ alright, but not clearly enough to be able to pin it down. Not that Frodo or Sam had been able to explain it terribly clearly either, she vaguely remembered. It was much like trying to describe the beauty of an elf.

Lothlorien was the living embodiment of everything elvish. Everything that hit you when you saw an elf before you, when you first heard them sing, was summed up in the trees Penny was gazing up at, in the grass she walked upon, in the flowers that littered the floor of every glade they passed through.

As weird as it sounded, she felt not exactly light-headed so much as refreshed and light on her toes. Her head seemed clearer than it had in ages, and the sunlight that filtered through the leaves or shone bright on her back in clearings, seemed to dance and sparkle, to infuse everything with a faint glow. Everything was very, _very_ green. She was not entirely sure that it was not just her mind playing tricks on her, though, because if you tried to concentrate on it, it seemed to evaporate… and yet it remained.

It was all deeply odd. Pleasant, beautiful and very wonderful, but deeply, deeply odd.

Penny wondered if this was what it was like to trip out on mushrooms or E or some such.

Suddenly visions of elves off their faces and mooning about making V-signs flitted through her head: Elrond with flowers in his hair telling everyone 'to chill out, man, and be cool.' That image was enough to start her off into a peal of sniggers that she tried to cover as a coughing fit.

"Are you quite well, Pen-ii?" Arwen seemed a little concerned.

"Quite well, I assure you," Penny spluttered.

Not good.

"So, how are you finding Lothlorien?" Glorfindel asked her once they had stopped to camp down for the evening.

"It is wonderful!" Penny grinned back at him.

"Isn't it?" Glorfindel looked around him. "I do so love being here."

There was a wistful note to his voice and Penny looked at him a little quizzically. He saw her looking at him.

"It has changed a little," he explained quietly. "It is already not quite what it was."

She nodded. "Yes, well, after The One was destroyed…"

"Indeed."

'Strange,' Penny thought. 'I did not notice any change in Imladris.'

Glorfindel, whether he had guessed her mind or not, added: "Even in Imladris, though you might not have noticed. The power in Lothlorien was always the greater. But then, Lady Galadriel is no ordinary elleth."

'Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that,' Penny said to herself, as she felt her stomach tighten into knots again.

Over supper and the following day Penny noticed their numbers were swelling, if gradually, as more and more Galadhrim joined them. Much of the singing was now done by the locals, again mainly love songs and a few which told tales of Elrond's feats in battle or of Glorfindel and the glory of Gondolin. As the voices rose from in amongst the crowd, on occasion others would meet them from up above Penny's head somewhere. She would strain her eyes to try and see the singers in amongst the foliage but never managed to do so.

It was a little after lunch when Penny found yet again she was entering a clearing, only this seemed a lot larger than any they had encountered up till now. As soon as she saw the hill in its centre, the double row of trees on the top, and the grass littered with white and yellow flowers, she knew where she was.

"Cerin Amroth," she breathed.

She was riding between Erestor and Lindir, with a Galadhrim friend of theirs on the far side of Lindir – a tall, willowy ellon (well, taller and willowier than most ellyn usually were) by the name of Rhimlath.

"You have heard of it?" Rhimlath seemed a little surprised.

"Oh, yes, indeed. This was the centre of the ancient realm once, is that not so?"

Erestor smiled and Lindir raised an eyebrow at him. He had a strong feeling that Erestor had not told her this, though it was very possible he was imagining things.

"Indeed," Rhimlath beamed with pleasure. He then started off on a lecture entirely for Penny's benefit.

Erestor and Lindir exchanged a glance. Little did Penny know it, but Rhimlath was rather renowned for pontificating, and at length. It was only after a few minutes, as Rhimlath showed no sign of slowing down or stopping any time soon, that Penny realised she had been deserted. She glanced round to see Erestor and Lindir had hung back a little and were now chatting amiably together and just letting Rhimlath get on with it.

As they slowly made their way round the mound, keeping it to their left, several slowed or got off their horses and Penny saw quite a few elves she knew sitting in the grass, leaning back and enjoying some of the sun for a few minutes. She spotted Elrond and Glorfindel among them, and then noticed Arwen making her way upwards towards the double ring of trees, lost in her own thoughts.

Penny smiled.

Aragorn had done a similar thing when the Fellowship had paused here with Haldir. This was where he and Arwen had plighted their troth, after all. It had such significance for them both, and here she was now on her way to marry him, to fulfil that pledge, made here so many years ago.

Rhimlath was still going, giving Penny chapter and verse about she knew not what, but she was away in her own thoughts. Arwen had reached the outer ring of trees and let one hand trail against the white bark of the first she reached, its boughs now covered in dark green leaves, stark against its pale trunk. A faint smile played on her lips.

As she watched her, Penny suddenly remembered with sadness that Aragorn had left this place never to return. Then, even as that thought struck her and hit home, she realised that Arwen would return, but alone, and to die.

Suddenly she was not even pretending to listen to Rhimlath any more, but staring at Arwen as a lump formed in her throat. Behind her the chatter died as Erestor suddenly caught sight of her and trailed off in mid-sentence. He recognised that look, though he had not seen it for many months. Lindir was glancing between the two, wondering what was going on.

As Penny brought her horse to a halt, Arwen suddenly stopped and slowly turned to stare directly in Penny's direction, returning Penny's gaze levelly as their eyes met.

"… because of course, back then we… Oh, I say, is anything amiss?" Rhimlath had glanced back to realise he was talking to himself and had turned his horse to come back to Penny. Lindir and Erestor joined him.

"Pen-ii?"

Penny suddenly started, even though Erestor had not spoken loudly.

"What? Oh, sorry. Did we stop?"

"You did," Erestor continued. "Rhimlath was asking you if anything was amiss?"

"No… no, no," Penny replied a little too hurriedly. She was smiling and apologising but all three could see there was something wrong, some distress or concern in her eyes though she was covering it well.

"Lady Pen-ii?"

Penny glanced round to see Elrond was beside her.

No, he was the _last_ person she needed to see let alone talk to right now. He really did NOT need to know that he had just been sitting on the site of his daughter's future grave.

"Excuse me… Rhimlath's history was so moving… to be amongst the Galadhrim at last… Lothlorien… too beautiful," she muttered hurriedly, urging her mare forward to get away from them all as quickly as she could.

Rhimlath looked incredibly smug, gave a nod of the head as if to say 'quite right too' and 'at least someone appreciates my knowledge' and quickly went after her to continue his lecture.

"Lady Pen-ii! If you found that informative, then just wait…!"

There was the briefest of 'moments' amongst the three ellyn left behind.

"What just happened here?" Lindir said quietly.

"I can guess at some of it, perhaps," Erestor said.

Elrond was quiet for a second. He had seen the tears in Penny's eyes, he had seen who she had been looking at, and that Arwen had returned her stare. He had sensed that his appearance beside her had been the thing that had upset her most.

"Perhaps, Erestor," he said quietly. "But I think I can guess nearer."

So saying, he walked to his horse and mounted it, determined never to come to that place again.

Nor did he.

Penny was quite grateful to have Rhimlath droning on at her for the next hour or so. The episode at Cerin Amroth had shaken her a little, if only because she had forgotten what that sort of thing could feel like – it had been a while, after all.

She was grateful, though, when Lindir managed to distract Rhimlath and persuade him that someone somewhere needed to know the finer details of some particular plant native only to Lothlorien. Rhimlath beamed and trotted on ahead to find them.

"Thank you." Penny smiled.

"You are welcome." Lindir grinned. "I would have warned you about him, but you gave him such an opportunity back there." He sniggered.

"You are too kind." She pulled a face. "I notice you and Erestor immediately abandoned me."

"Do you blame us?"

"Actually, no."

They continued in silence for a little while, letting the sound of a love ballad wash over them.

"Pen-ii," Lindir began. "About what happened at Cerin Amroth-"

"I do not want to talk about it." Something in her hurried tone made Lindir glance at her, his brow furrowed. She clearly meant it and was determined. She looked back at him. "Do not ask me again. I will not tell you."

"Never? It is not part of-"

"It is and it is not."

She suddenly looked very sad and Lindir found himself reminded of when she had first come to Imladris. What was going on?

"Pen-ii?" he asked gently.

But she merely shook her head and would not say anything more.

Soon after that, they broke through the tree line to be confronted by the outer walls of Caras Galadhon. The wide grassy area that encircled it meant they could walk several horses abreast easily now. Those on foot mainly kept to the paved, white walkway. To their left was the wide moat several metres across. Then towering above it was the green hedge of tall trees, knitted and interwoven, the branches grown one into the other to form an impenetrable barrier. Penny felt her heart in her mouth as she craned her neck upwards at the huge trees on the other side of it. She could never have imagined this sight in her wildest dreams.

"It is quite something, is it not?" Mireth said excitedly, coming to stand alongside her. It was Mireth's first ever visit to Lothlorien and she was probably looking forward to it nearly as much as Penny was.

Penny was speechless. All she could do was nod dumbly.

She offered Mireth her mare and the two travelled along the encircling path together. Lindir kept close beside them, chatting with Celebdor or else joining in with the songs.

After an hour or two there was a brief pause as everyone stopped. Penny was informed by Celebdor, who stood on his horse's back to see ahead, that a company of Galadhrim dressed in the white and silver livery of the guards of the Lord and Lady had come to greet the wedding march and lead them into the city.

It was late afternoon when at last they reached the gates, set between the overlap of the encircling band of trees. The songs had increased in volume and were met by voices from inside the city now. They passed over the bridge that spanned the water-filled ditch and through the open doors, huge and wooden, and with runes and designs carved within them that near glowed with mithril and jewels.

As Penny entered Lothlorien, she could scarcely believe it. The sense of 'unreal' reality had been increasing the nearer they had got to the city. The air positively hummed with light and singing and something utterly indefinable.

She half expected their arrival to be greeted by unseen Galadhrim singing at them from the trees above them, but instead the paths were lined with elves, some singing, some laughing and waving, and others just looking inordinately pleased that their kin from across the mountains were arrived at last.

Penny gave up trying to take it all in and just let it pass by her, lost in wonder and awe at it all. The size of the trees here was immense, like nothing she could have imagined, and she got dizzy every time she looked up to try and see where they might end.

'Dream come true' could not even begin to cover it.

They wound their way along paths and between trees, ever accompanied by songs and laughter, slowly climbing up the long, low incline of the massive hill on which the entire city was built. Dusk was drawing in and lights were being lit, twinkling in gradually increasing numbers high in the leaves above them. At last they reached a large clearing where those on horseback dismounted, packs were laid on the ground, and finally greetings could properly be made. Waiting for them were a large group of elves, many of whom immediately came forward to help with unloading the horses and began to lead them off to be refreshed and housed in stables and paddocks nearby.

At the centre of this group were more Galadhrim guards dressed in white and silver and in amongst them, two figures, male and female, standing tall and proud. The elf-lord was a good hand taller than Glorfindel (which was saying something), his silver hair flowing down his back. In the gathering gloom he seemed to shine, as if early starlight were already catching the traces of mithril threads in his white tunic or the pearls and opals at his throat. Holding his hand was an elleth as tall as he was. She was also in white, with hair like spun sunlight and a beauty rivalled only by Arwen out of all the ellith there. She was extraordinary.

Even Penny, obtuse, utterly ordinary, mortal Penny, could tell she was in the presence of two hugely powerful people. They emanated an energy that seemed to make the air around them both fizz.

It took only a moment for Penny to take all this in. As she did so, Celeborn and Galadriel's faces had broken into wide smiles. Elrond was greeting them loudly from afar even as he jumped from his horse. Arwen ran into her grandmother's arms as if she were a mere elfling once more.

Galadriel broke her hold on Celeborn's hand to hug Arwen tightly and kiss her brow, then pull back a little, holding her by her face to smile down at her and murmur something to her.

Elrond had now joined them and greeted his father-in-law with a slight bow and a broad smile.

Glorfindel and Erestor were not far behind him. Indeed, the entire glade was filled with hallooing and laughing, hugs and broad smiles everywhere you looked.

Transfixed on the other side of the clearing, Penny suddenly felt sick to her stomach with nerves.

* * *

Author's notes: 

1. The chapter title was going to be 'He's Not The Messiah, He's A Very Naughty Boy,' but I did not want to cause offence. It is a quote from Monty Python's 'The Life of Brian' and are, thus, very, very apt. /snickers/ What, me? Being a cow to Penny? But of course! Well, why break a habit when it's so much fun, right? ;P

2. I repeat the author's note from Chapter 20 of 'Don't Panic!' just for reference: " In HoME (Morgoth's Ring) it says that elves can sense if someone is married or not. Now it doesn't specify if this is just with other elves or if they can sense it with other races as well. Given elvish sensibilities, and the fact that we humans can make fairly accurate guesses based on someone's demeanour as to whether they are a virgin or not, I do not think it too much of a stretch to say that elves can sense such things about humans pretty accurately. In Middle Earth, of course, sex would only come with marriage. Hence their shock at the idea that she is not a virgin and yet never been married."

3. Trivia moment: 'Rhimlath' was the name JRRT was originally considering for Orophin. It's in HoME, but don't ask me where because I forget now. ;P

4. /weeps for Elrond/

5. A 'fosse' (as JRRT describes the ditch in the chapter 'The Mirror of Galadriel' in FOTR) is equivalent to a moat and thus often/usually had water in it.

6. As ever, thanks to all those reviewing and showing their support and interest. :)  



	11. Stupid Is As Stupid Does

**Chapter 11 **– _Stupid Is As Stupid Does_

There was no formal welcoming or speech from Galadriel or Celeborn, no standing on ceremony once the initial warm greeting of family was over. Instead they slowly moved through the throng, welcoming groups or individuals, many of whom were old friends.

As she watched them slowly head her way, Penny felt her stomach sink at the thought that she would herself meet them face-to-face in all but a few minutes. Her mind was racing. She had had months of gradually getting used to her new life. In all that time, she had not had to think about her situation, or rather she had been able to forget about it a little once the war had finished and her mind was not so focused on it all. That moment in Cerin Amroth had been the first such moment in a long while, and the prospect of going through it all again, of having everything raked over once more, filled her with trepidation.

She could do without the emotional upheaval, frankly, if the truth be told.

Added to which, Galadriel in the books had seemed so…. ethereal, so other-worldly, so powerful that it scared Penny a little to be in the presence of her even at this distance, let alone know she was possibly going to get a grilling from her, if not now then soon.

It did occur to her that the fact she had faced Gandalf without similar qualms showed a complete lack of logic on her part. 'Though Gandalf was far more personable in the books,' she reminded herself. Also, back then, she had had little time to really think about who she was about to meet the first time she had been presented with Elrond, Gandalf, Aragorn and the rest. There had been more immediate concerns (such as whether she was completely losing her marbles, just for a start). The entire situation had been traumatic, and meeting them, while upsetting, had been nerve-wracking for very different reasons than those that were giving her the heebie-jeebies right now.

Basically, now she had the time to really consider the enormity of such a meeting, it scared the pants off her.

Thus it was that, acting purely on instinct and all the while knowing it to be an utterly ridiculous thing to do, Penny picked up her saddle bags and, as surreptitiously as she dared, sidled round the clearing as slowly as Galadriel and Celeborn seemed to make their way in her direction. Part of her brain was asking her what the hell she was playing at, but her legs seemed to have a life of their own: taking her away even as her brain was screaming at her to stay still.

'Later, perhaps… Much later. Yeah, meeting them tomorrow would be good. Or the day after, even.'

Needless to say, her performance did not go unnoticed. Glorfindel and Erestor glanced in her direction more than once, eyebrows raised and looking less than impressed. Erestor had even caught hold of Elrond's arm at one point and muttered to him, gesturing towards Penny as he did so.

Suddenly, a hand gripped her firmly by the elbow.

"What in Arda do you think you are doing?" a voice hissed in her ear. "Stay still and meet your hosts. We may not have too many conventions and customs, but manners cost nothing."

Penny could not work out if Lindir was merely irritated or genuinely angry, but neither seemed a pleasant prospect.

"Scuttling round the clearing like that…! Do you think we can not see you?"

Penny did not have an answer and just stood there, saddlebags in hand, feeling very shamefaced. And looking it.

"Oh, I am sure they do not want to meet me," she murmured, trying to find some excuse for her behaviour now it had been noticed.

After his conversation with Elrond and Erestor, Lindir knew perfectly well that Penny knew that was not the case.

"Nonsense. You are a guest, and the only mortal here," he smiled thinly. He could not say much more given Rhimlath was standing right beside him.

"Oh, do not be too hard on her, Lindir. I admit I thought she might be a little more enthusiastic, given the clear interest she has shown in our realm thus far, but it is perhaps no surprise, given how fearful and in awe the Secondborn usually are in our presence."

Penny scowled, but knew better than to say anything. Lindir would have had her head on a plate if she had so much as breathed a word in response to Rhimlath right now. Especially given the kind of response it probably would have been.

"Galadriel is a very famous elleth of great power and honour. I felt scared to meet her so soon. It was too much."

Which was true. Pathetic, perhaps, but true.

Rhimlath smiled in a way that made it clear that he completely understood and felt his point had been made. He also had a faintly pitying air as if it was such a shame (if entirely understandable) that the young thing before him should behave like a skittish doe when faced with an elf of power.

However, Lindir just raised a sceptical eyebrow at her.

"You knew we were coming here the day we left Imladris. You have had over two weeks to prepare yourself. If not longer."

"I did not expect to meet them the moment I set foot here, though! I am still trying to get used to being in Caras Galadhon. _Caras Galadhon_, Lindir! I… I am IN Caras Galadhon!"

There was tone of genuine astonishment and excitement as she said this that made Rhimlath swell with pride at the same time as it made Lindir look at her closely.

"Well, judging from the expression on Lord Elrond's face, he is far from impressed that you have so obviously tried to avoid meeting the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien."

Penny blinked.

Oh. Crap.

Lindir watched her face fall.

"Exactly. I suggest you stop behaving so ridiculously and let them greet you."

Rhimlath leaned forward to pat Penny on the arm as if to say 'Don't worry, little mortal, I understand how scary we can be.' If she had not been so preoccupied with the fact that Galadriel and Celeborn were now only feet away from her, she might have seriously considered thumping him. Rhimlath then left them to it and joined those busily setting up awnings and tents for the visitors.

Celeborn and Galadriel finished talking to the group next to them and turned towards them. Penny's heart was in her mouth and her stomach in knots. She had no option but face the inevitable, if nothing else because Lindir was practically standing on top of her, effectively preventing her from going anywhere even if she tried to.

In a haze of nerves and panic her only thought was that, however cursory this first meeting might be, Penny did not want to have anything 'read' from her by Galadriel. No silent questioning, no weird mind-reading – nothing that would give something away that Penny would prefer remained unsaid or set her off into some emotional frenzy. Now was not the time.

'Concentrate, woman. Concentrate on something… _anything_!'

She let the first tune that popped into her head fill her brain. Unfortunately, in her concentrated effort to blank out anything else, she also started muttering under her breath.

"…Scaramouche, scaramouche, will you do the fandango, thunderbolts and lightning…"

Lindir dug her in the ribs. Hard.

There was a faint peal of laughter from Galadriel.

"Now, now, Lindir, Lady Pen-ii has her reasons, I am sure."

Penny felt her face flush a bright scarlet.

_'Why you so frightened of me, child? Am I really remembered so ill from wherever you hail?'_

The gentle, female voice in her head, so unexpected and unbidden, was as soft as a breeze, kindly and warm. A little curious and a little sad, perhaps, as it asked its rhetorical question, but not unkind. Far from it.

Penny just stood there, blinking at Galadriel like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Lindir! It has been too long!" Celeborn smiled, as if he had not noticed anything happen at all. "It is good to see you once more."

Lindir inclined his head slightly, his face now split with a broad smile.

"Indeed," Galadriel added. "I trust you will regale us with some music and song while we are in your company? We have need of some with your talent here in Lothlorien."

"You flatter me too much, my lady."

"Nonsense," Galadriel smiled.

"And Lady Pen-ii," Celeborn turned to her, his grey eyes bright with the wisdom of long years. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last."

Lindir was having a hard time keeping his face expressionless. 'At last?'

"You are most welcome, Pen-ii." Galadriel smiled.

"And I am honoured to meet you both. Truly." Only now did Penny think to bow a little. She could barely look Galadriel in the eye, and not just because of her embarrassment. "It is an honour simply to be here in Lothlorien. I have heard so much…"

"You must treat this place as if it were your own." Celeborn smiled.

"Help yourselves to anything you need," Galadriel murmured as she turned to leave.

And that was it.

Weird mind-talk aside, it had been rather banal, very amiable and not at all scary, which meant Penny was left feeling both foolish and ashamed. Lindir had a stern, narrow-eyed 'See? What in Arda was all the fuss about?' expression on his face as he suggested Penny should follow him and help set up camp.

Penny trailed after him a little sulkily, mentally kicking herself for having behaved like such an idiot. 'What a _fantastic_ first impression all of THAT must have made on the Lord and Lady of Lothorien,' she told herself sourly. They would no doubt report it to Elrond, who would also have it relayed to him by Lindir, and given he was already annoyed with her, apparently…

Penny groaned.

'Great. Just great. Way to go, Penny. Superb. Really, bloody superb.'

"The poor child was frightened," Galadriel murmured as she and Celeborn meandered over to the last few elves they had not welcomed.

"Indeed. To the point that she tried to avoid meeting us. It is only thanks to Lindir that she stayed still long enough for us to welcome her at all."

"I thought it best that we not tarry and engage her in conversation just yet."

"Yes, I did notice you were tugging on my sleeve, my love," Celeborn smiled. "However, I sensed we managed to put her at her ease somewhat."

"I wonder at her initial reaction to us."

"I wonder at it a little also." Celeborn paused, considering for a moment. "Then again… perhaps not."

Celeborn's face was enigmatic as he spoke, and none save Galadriel might have been able to guess at what he was thinking if they had been a party to the conversation.

With half of Lothlorien (or so it seemed) helping out, the camp was very soon readied. Cots and cushions had appeared as if from nowhere so that the visitors' sojourn would be a little bit more comfortable than up till now on their travels. As it turned out many would not be staying there but with old friends or relations in talans or lodgings elsewhere. There was now no sign of Celeborn or Galadriel. Elrond, Arwen, Erestor and Glorfindel were among those who would be staying in other accommodation and had also disappeared.

Penny suddenly felt very much the odd-one-out. Even for those for whom this was their first trip to Lothlorien, such as Mireth, there was not the same sense of alienation and utter strangeness as there was for Penny. Rather there was the sharing of kin and bloodlines, of shared culture and history. For many they had family and friends here. Penny had seen Naurdir greeting an ellon she assumed was his father-in-law and both kissing and wandering off with an elleth she had had pointed out to her as his wife. Nor was he the only one.

She felt her presence there was more of a hindrance, perhaps, or at the very least an oddity that it would have been easier to do without. Mireth had said they would explore together, but Penny felt she would probably do better by herself or without Penny around to encumber her at least. Certainly, as pleasant enough as the greetings had been from the locals, they, like the Galadhrim she had already met, seemed a little surprised a mortal was amongst those from Imladris, but the moment she was explained away paid her no more interest whatsoever.

There would be a little while before food was ready, though already things were being prepared in a nearby clearing to the one they were to camp in, so Penny was told. She took the opportunity, with Mireth and Eleniel, to fetch some water from a nearby rivulet and then wash and change into clean clothes.

That would be first job tomorrow: a proper bathe and washing the clothes they had travelled in.

Joy.

Penny sat outside the tent, combing her hair and staring up into the mad heights of the branches above her, lights moving and twinkling amongst them, and the air filled with song.

It was like sitting inside a dream.

Eleniel plaited Penny's hair and, once done, the three headed over to where food was being provided.

It was no feast by any means – that was planned for tomorrow night, apparently – but was still a good spread, especially compared to the simpler fare the travelling party had been used to for the last few days. There was plenty of fruit and fresh bread, cheeses and wine, baked fish and sweetmeats. There were bowls of what the elves would probably call 'salad'. It was something Penny had come to recognise in Imladris, and which consisted of (as far as she was concerned) a random assortment of leaves, weeds and flowers. It was an acquired taste.

Long, low tables filled the clearing. Mireth spotted Celebdor, Rhimlath and Lindir sitting together at one table and dragged the other two with her to join them. Penny was aware Lindir barely spoke to her throughout the meal. Clearly he was still somewhat peeved by her earlier performance. She could not really blame him, either. She was very quiet herself too, glancing up every now and then towards where she could just make out Galadriel and Celeborn sitting with their family and close friends and advisors. Galadriel happened to catch her eye as she laughed, smiling at something Glorfindel had said to her. Penny quickly looked back down at her plate, feeling very self-conscious.

"You seem quiet, Pen-ii." Celebdor smiled gently.

"Am I? You must forgive me. This place is…" She looked about her and upwards.

Words failed her.

Celebdor grinned. "It is, is it not?"

"Celebdor has promised to show us around a little tomorrow," Mireth was beaming. "I am so looking forward to it."

Penny nodded and smiled. It would be something, it was true.

"Ah, but Celebdor, while he is no stranger to Lothlorien, could not show you everything there is to see here. You have expressed so much interest in the place, Lady Pen-ii, I was hoping perhaps… Indeed Lindir suggested that perhaps you might…"

Rhimlath trailed off. Penny glanced at Lindir. He had suggested she might like to have Rhimlath bore her senseless for the day, had he? Ah. Right. Like that, was it?

Lindir looked straight back at Penny, his face perfectly straight. There was a faint tightening of the skin round the eyes, though, and the flicker of a curve at the edges of his mouth that showed he was highly amused.

Penny was not.

But Penny had little choice.

"But of course, Rhimlath. I thank you. That would be most interesting."

Lindir's face broke into a broad grin. Penny glared at him. Which just made Lindir grin all the wider, and even snicker quietly.

"Of course, if Lindir wants to join us-"

"No, no, I do not think that-"

"But of course!" beamed Penny. "That would be wonderful! Oh, you _must_ join us, Lindir. I would be very interested to know your thoughts on everything Rhimlath will tell us." She smiled her sweetest smile.

Now it was Lindir's turn to narrow his eyes in annoyance.

"Good. Well that is settled then." Rhimlath, oblivious, nodded with satisfaction. "I do not want to tread on your toes, though, Celebdor. Please, you and Mireth are welcome to join us…"

They hurriedly excused themselves. As a couple, they had a very good excuse to want to see things together and alone. Eleniel was suddenly very busily engaged in discussion with the elleth next to her and seemingly oblivious to the entire proceedings.

As Rhimlath wandered off to "prepare himself for tomorrow and make a mental list of all the 'must-see' places of note," Lindir looked back at Penny, shaking his head slightly but unable to keep back a smile.

"Well played, Pen-ii."

"Serves you right, Lindir."

"Indeed it does," smirked Celebdor. "Pen-ii turned the tables back on you very nicely just then."

"It is all very well for you to laugh!" Lindir retorted. "I notice you and Mireth wriggled out of coming with us."

"But we are betrothed, Lindir." Mireth smirked. "We have every right to wander beneath the beauty of the mellyrn undisturbed by Rhimlath's incessant prattling." She laughed that long, tinkling giggle of hers that Celebdor loved so well.

"And I do not see why I should have to face it alone," Penny added.

Well, it had broken the ice between them a little, she was pleased to note. She was not sure she wanted Lindir upset with her for the rest of the evening.

The meal finished, Penny glanced up to see Galadriel and Celeborn had left. Erestor was standing, deep in conversation with Elrond. Glorfindel had wandered over to where some elves were playing quietly on flutes and lyres.

'Asking a request from the DJ, Glorfindel?' Penny smirked to herself.

She wondered if she should go and say something to Elrond, try and explain her actions from earlier. Galadriel and Celeborn had not said anything, though, or given any indication they were offended or upset. Then again, they were probably just being polite.

"Lady Pen-ii?"

Penny turned. It was Erestor.

"Would you mind following me, please?"

Penny blinked. What was this about? She nodded and stepped towards him.

"Actually, Lindir, are you busy? Galadriel has asked that you be present, since she knows you are a good friend of Pen-ii's."

Penny paled. This was not good on all sorts of levels. Meeting Galadriel, the grilling, let alone Lindir being there…

"But Erestor…"

Erestor silenced her with a look. Penny glanced at Lindir nervously and Lindir, seeing her look, raised an eyebrow.

"Trust Galadriel's insight, Pen-ii," he murmured to her as they wandered along together, following Erestor under the trees. "Celeborn is wise beyond measure and if the two feel I should be there…"

"Indeed," Erestor added, turning his head slightly to Penny. "They are well aware Lindir does not know your story."

"Want to tell me now before we get there?" Lindir smiled, but he was only half-joking.

Penny hesitated. "No, I want to do it in my own time… In my own way… Not like this. Not be pushed into it. This is too much. I can not do this, Erestor. Please."

Erestor stopped and turned to face her fully. "Pen-ii, this behaviour has to stop."

"What behaviour?"

"Your trying to avoid them earlier was noticed, you know. I was less than impressed-"

"That is not fair, Erestor. That is not fair and you know it."

"Do I?"

"He has a point, Pen-ii. I know for a fact that Elrond-"

"Yes, Lord Elrond is even less impressed than I was, Pen-ii."

"Now, hold hard just one moment! Has it not occurred to you what this is like for me, Erestor? This is not unlike when I first came to Imladris…"

Lindir suddenly went very still and quiet. Penny was busy ranting at Erestor, having momentarily forgotten his presence.

"This is _Galadriel_, Erestor. Galadriel! I'm terrified, and pleased, and in awe and… I mean… Her history is… She guided Maura through so much. It was her lamp that saved him from Shelob-"

Erestor coughed quietly and glanced at Lindir.

"What? Oh. Yes." Penny fell silent.

Lindir glanced between the two. "My patience is wearing thin, you know." Again that smile, though it was clear he meant it.

Penny looked at him. She had an urge to take his hand, but was not sure if she should. As if sensing that in her, he held one hand out to her, and she took it gratefully.

"I promised you I would tell you, and I will, Lindir. Soon. I just… We have only just arrived here and I have barely caught my breath. Meeting Galadriel and Celeborn… Ai, it is hard to explain. It is such a huge moment for me. You will understand."

"And meeting Elrond was not a big moment? Or Mithrandir? Or Aragorn?"

Lindir felt he was going to burst with curiosity. The more Erestor spoke, the more confused he became. Penny had heard of them all before she had arrived? How was this possible given she was clearly from somewhere so far away?

"It was… but there were more pressing concerns at that time."

Erestor nodded. "I understand. That still does not excuse your behaviour-"

"Of course it does not. I regret it. It was foolish and stupid and I was telling myself exactly that even while I was doing it-"

"You must not let Erestor scold you, Pen-ii."

How long Arwen had been standing there, Penny had no idea. She was only a little distance away from them, a smile on her lips.

"I understood immediately, as did my grandparents. More than you might realise, I suspect. They have said as much to Father. You must not fear his anger. He has accepted that your reaction was, perhaps, to be expected." She turned, beckoning. "Come. They are waiting."

Lindir and Erestor hung back while Penny, feeling increasingly nervous, followed Arwen in to the shadows.

* * *

Author's Notes:

'Maura,' do not forget, is Frodo's real name in his native Westron. "Frodo" was only ever a 'translation' into English. (This was all explained, both in footnotes and in replies to reviews, in Don't Panic – see the Appendices and HoME for more details).

I hope I don't have to explain where 'Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango' comes from, even to those under a certain age who may not remember it first hand. However, just in case: 'Bohemian Rhapsody' by Queen, and recently voted the best song ever.


	12. Lords, Ladies and Lies

Well, here it is. Apologies to all those gnashing their teeth in frustration at the end of the last chapter. I did actually start writing that chapter expecting to get all the way to the end of the events described in this one, but after 14 pages and still no sign of Lindir's bit, I realised I would have to give up that idea and post it as two chapters.

Anyway, to make up for it, this is a 15-page monster of some 6,000 words. I will, therefore, apologise for length and boring you all silly. ;P

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 12** – _Lords, Ladies and Lies_

Arwen led Penny to a small glade nearby, shaded by the trees and with a brook running through it to one side. Flowers filled the grass and the bushes round about were laden with honeysuckle, making the night air heavy with scent. Elrond and Celeborn were seated on the ground, leaning back on cushions, awaiting them. Galadriel was standing, a honeysuckle blossom gently held in her hand as she bent to sniff it.

Penny was aware this was the first time she had been alone with or even anywhere near Arwen since that moment on Cerin Amroth.

'Well, I won't say anything if she doesn't,' she decided, only to have Arwen interrupt her thoughts.

"I made my choice long ago," Arwen said quietly.

Penny glanced up to find Arwen was looking at her. Her gaze was serious but gentle. Penny's throat went tight.

"I know," she whispered.

Arwen turned, feeling no more needed to be said.

"I found them, grandfather," she said as she stepped lightly into the glade. "Lady Pen-ii was attempting to explain her reaction to you to Erestor."

Penny flushed and looked at her feet. What could she say? She had made a prize arse of herself earlier that evening, and she knew it.

"Ah, was she indeed?" Elrond raised an eyebrow. "I was… surprised, shall we say, Pen-ii. I had thought you had got used to us by now."

"We are not offended, Pen-ii," Celeborn responded. "I think that was Lord Elrond's main concern, perhaps, but you need not worry in that regard." Penny tentatively returned his smile. "You are most welcome, Pen-ii. Forgive us for insisting on this meeting, but we felt… since you have now had a little time to find your bearings, you might be better able to bear it."

"Better also to get some of this over with now, do you not agree?" Galadriel added, walking over to her. "We will not force you to discuss anything, Pen-ii. If you feel you can not manage it just yet, we will leave it for another time. The choice is yours. I know this is something you are fearful of."

Penny struggled to find her voice. "Thank you, my lady." She hesitated. "I must apologise, first, though… about earlier…"

"No need." Celeborn raised a hand.

"No, I meant…" Penny looked at Galadriel. "Your question… That is not the case, Lady Galadriel. Far from it. I feel ashamed my reaction made you think that was a possibility."

"I did not expect an answer, nor indeed did I honestly think that to be the case, my child." Galadriel smiled gently. "If anything I was trying to reassure you that you had nothing to fear, either from myself or Lord Celeborn, or from anything while you are within our borders. You should feel free, perhaps freer than you have felt up till now."

Penny was not entirely sure what that last phrase meant.

"Come."

Celeborn beckoned her over to him. He did not get up and Elrond indicated for Penny to sit. The informal atmosphere was helping her to keep her nerves under control. Penny suspected it was all quite deliberate. She hesitated sitting, though – old human social mores kicked in and made her feel it might not be wholly appropriate.

"There is little, perhaps, that we can tell you," Celeborn was saying. "I know Elrond and Erestor were eager that we meet you, but perhaps the time for such necessity is past. Your knowledge is hazier of events from now on, is that not so?"

"There is still more that has not been spoken of," Galadriel said quietly before Penny could reply.

Penny turned back to her, her eyes wide.

Galadriel smiled, and glanced at Elrond. "You were right. It does not concern us, though."

Suddenly Queen were back and at full volume inside Penny's head.

Galadriel tilted her head to one side. "Strange music. And in a tongue I cannot understand. You need not fear, Pen-ii. I would not read your thoughts unless you allowed me to do so, and unless it was in a tongue I knew then it would still be vague to me." She smiled. "I am not Mithrandir, after all."

Of course. Stupid. Mithrandir had only ever had the gist of things and he was far more powerful than Galadriel could ever hope to be.

At the opposite edge of the glade, Lindir and Erestor had appeared, now accompanied by Glorfindel. The three stood quietly, watching and listening to the scene as it unfolded. Lindir and Erestor stood together and Glorfindel leant up against a tree, arms folded. Lindir had tried to ask something once or twice already but each time Erestor and Glorfindel gestured for him to be quiet. Lindir gave up, accepting that his presence was deemed necessary by Galadriel and Celeborn, even if he was not to get any explanation for it just now.

Galadriel moved over to Penny, taking her hand. The wisdom of Ages was in her eyes. Elrond had the same thing, as had Glorfindel and Celeborn, but Galadriel's gaze was like nothing Penny had experienced. She felt lost in those eyes, drawn into them, and it was as if she could hear a far away ocean's roar or the whisper of the wind in long-forgotten forests ringing inside her head.

The light... the light that flickered deep within them was beyond reason.

"Questions. So many questions." Galadriel was speaking quietly. "She is so very far from home. Lost and found. She has found some peace, some comfort, at least..." She glanced at Elrond. "You have done well."

Elrond smiled to himself as Galadriel focused back on Penny.

"It is deep… she hides it, but it is there: questions she would rather forget and yet yearns to ask. She fears the answers may not be what she wants to hear and yet longs to have resolution and certainty."

Penny was being told things she hardly dared admit to herself. She had never spoken of this, though it had been guessed at and speculated upon by those who knew her story. Only once had she quizzed Mithrandir about it many months before, but when it became clear he did not have answers for her, she had had to learn to try and forget it… though it would never leave her completely.

"Once she wanted answers, but now… Now it terrifies her. She does not want them now, nor will I give them to her even though I might guess at them." She paused, then suddenly spoke to Penny directly. "Home is already distant to you. Yet you still miss them, do you not?"

Penny nodded, her eyes filling suddenly. Galadriel lifted her other hand to gently cup Penny's cheek, smiling kindly at her, her voice softer than down. Penny could smell the faint, lingering trace of honeysuckle on her fingertips.

"And I am sure they miss you."

Penny felt a tear spill over and down her cheek.

"You feel more yourself here than you ever did there. I can feel it. Deep within you, you know it too."

Penny shook her head.

"Yes, you do."

Gazing into those silver-grey eyes, suddenly Penny felt as if she had a choice: that all she had to do was ask. She could return to her damp, boring, hellish life. She could go back to be insulted by her idiot brother every Christmas, Easter or simply whenever they actually met face to face. She could be driven to distraction by her mother passing on the phone numbers of the sons of cousins, neighbours or simply some woman she met in the laundrette since Penny apparently 'needed to find a nice young man.' She could go back to the clammy, desperate embrace of Brian or some other sod that lurched at her in a drunken frenzy. She could shuffle along the mortal coil till she fell off the end of it, living out her existence in the comparative squalor and darkness of modern life, and never see this beauty ever again. She could dismiss it all as a dream and let the memory of the friendship and companionship, the compassion and noble honour that she had seen slowly fade to 'civilised modernity' around her.

It was no choice at all.

But then she already knew that. She had worked that one out some time ago.

"You are home," Galadriel murmured.

There were puzzled looks and mutterings at this. All save from Celeborn. Lindir looked the most puzzled of all of them. He decided he needed a sit down.

Penny simply burst into tears. Galadriel put her arms around her and held her as she wept.

"I cannot explain it any more than you can understand it, my child," Galadriel said softly over her head. "But you know it to be true as much as I can sense it within you."

Penny pulled away, completely at a loss. She had not expected this, she had not prepared for this in any way.

"Do you not sense it also, Elrond?" Galadriel was looking at her son-in-law. "Arwen? Surely you must do so. You said she seemed so very far removed from you, but that is not the case now. Do you not feel it?"

Arwen nodded. "It started receding almost as soon as I noticed it. It has reduced gradually over time. It is still there, but not as it was."

Penny was looking more and more perplexed.

"Mithrandir may have answers for you," Celeborn said. "Then again he may not. If he cannot provide them, no one can. We can only tell you what we feel, what we sense from you. There are questions that you do not want the answers for, no matter how often you ask them of yourself. We might tell you, but you would not want to hear."

Penny nodded.

"Nor could you speak with any absolute certainty," she replied quietly.

They did not reply, and their silence was answer enough.

She would prefer not to know if she was going to get sucked back to her old life at any moment; and as much as she wanted to know if she would stay forever, she was indeed fearful of getting a very different answer, just as Galadriel had surmised. Even if they tried, they would not be able to say for sure, only guess or hope, or perhaps say what might come to pass. Living as if she was here for the rest of her life was the only way she could cope with it all, let alone deal with the homesickness, the sudden flashes of her mother in tears and filling in a 'Missing Persons' report down at the nick, or the cravings for chocolate or pizza.

The guilt of wanting to stay was something she really did not like to think about.

Somewhere in the distance, a jaunty tune had struck up and there was the faint sound of laughter: Glorfindel's handiwork, no doubt. As Penny listened to the melody, so different, so alien to any dance tune she had heard in any nightclub in London, a wave of all she missed hit her without warning.

"This is why I did not want to do this…" She was struggling to keep the tears from falling once more. "It is too much. I have managed to keep it in for months now, found a way of living my life, but… I try not to think about it. Forgive me. I realise I was rude before, and I did not mean to be. Truly, I am sorry to have behaved in such a way."

"I have already told you no apology is necessary," Celeborn smiled. "We understand better than you realise."

He gestured once more for her to sit, and Arwen, who had been standing next to her all this while, took Penny's hand and sat down a little apart from Elrond and Celeborn. Penny let her pull her to the ground beside her. Galadriel moved round to sit beside Celeborn, leaning in towards him slightly, as he continued to talk quietly to Penny.

"The gift of foresight is strong amongst the Firstborn, and not uncommon among the Secondborn though it is dwindling now and found only in those of the old bloodlines. Even amongst them it does not occur with any clarity. Not like it used to. Estel is perhaps the exception. It is far from easy to carry such knowledge, especially for those unused to the burden. We cannot tell you what to do, but you may find it easier to talk a little to those who know you now, whom you count as friends. You say you have managed by keeping it in, but this will not serve you well in the long run. Did Mithrandir not tell you to speak openly of all you knew to Elrond once the Nine Walkers had left?"

Lindir, listening intently and with his mind racing at what he was hearing, raised his head sharply at that.

"Did that not help you a little? I would advise you to do something similar again. Even if you do not tell them it all – your story is a little hard to accept, I will admit – then your foreknowledge will not be so strange to them. It may indeed provide a bond with some of them. Only you can decide how best to deal with this. There is no right or wrong path to choose. Know that Elrond here and the others will support you. They have thus far."

"I know." Her voice was very small and choked with emotion. "I can never repay them. They have shown me much kindness and patience."

"It is Halbarad you have to thank," Galadriel replied. "After all, he did not have to bring you to Lord Elrond."

Penny nodded. The swell of emotion that rose within her at the thought that she would never be able to thank him properly herself, never converse with him in his own tongue to truly tell him how much she thought of him, how grateful she was, was too much. Tears rolled down her face.

"Ah, yes," Celeborn said sadly. "Such things are never easy."

On the far side of the glade, Lindir spoke quietly.

"If I may speak? Why am I here, my lord?"

Only now did Penny realise he was there, glancing round to see the quiet trio of ellyn nearby. She wondered how much he had heard. Judging by the serious and bewildered expression on his face, 'quite a bit' she assumed.

"You were promised her story, Lindir, and Galadriel and I would like to hear some of it also, though we know it already from Elrond. I feel sure Lady Pen-ii would not wish to go through it all more than once. It may well be distressing for her. We thought it best you hear it at the same time as she spoke to us." Celeborn looked back at Penny. "Do not feel obliged, Pen-ii. If you wish to wait a while, then-"

"We simply felt it might be better to provide this opportunity for you to do this now, than have it hanging over you any longer. Once it is done, then you can rest and take time to repose here in Lothlorien before facing Rohan and Gondor and whatever they may bring."

Penny looked at Galadriel. Did she know something Penny didn't?

Galadriel's face was smiling, kind, but utterly unreadable.

'Damn inscrutable, these elves.'

"I-I trust your judgment," she said quietly, forcing herself to believe it but really not at _all_ sure about this. Her head was spinning just from what had transpired so far. She had not planned to tell Lindir like this, in public…

Then again, she had not really thought too hard about exactly _how_ to broach it with him, and to have others there who already knew would be helpful…

"Pen-ii?" Lindir's voice was quiet, but he was looking at her with intense curiosity now.

Penny glanced at him and nodded. She did not speak, just breathed shakily for a moment or two as if trying to gather her thoughts.

"Perhaps we should leave?" Arwen said quietly to her father.

"No, please… stay," Penny responded. "After all, Lindir may have trouble believing what I will say."

"If all here believe it, that is enough for me, Pen-ii. I would not dream of questioning the judgment of Elrond, let alone Lord Celeborn."

'Yeah, right, you say that NOW…' thought Penny.

"I had already guessed some, and what I have heard just now-"

Penny turned towards him. "Guessed? Guessed what? How?"

"You never lost your memory. That was, and I hope the company here will forgive me for saying so, a lie, though I know full well Lord Elrond would never have been involved in such a deception without good reason. The strong sense of strangeness that has been mentioned here I sensed also. From the first day I met you."

Penny looked horrified. She turned to Elrond, all propriety suddenly forgotten.

"You said few would have this, that few would sense it! First Legolas, now Lindir…! How many more are there, Elrond?"

"Pen-ii, you need not fear," Arwen interrupted, silencing her father's words of protest with a glance before he could even draw breath to speak. "Any who sensed it would have put it down to your being from far away as they were told. Legolas only surmised there was something more since he knew what amnesia felt like in a human. Even then he would not have spoken were it not for what he faced and what he was party to regarding the Ring. Only those who got to know you better might question that but would accept that Father here, Erestor, myself and others had accepted your presence and your story."

"Indeed," Lindir agreed. "I know you well, Pen-ii, do not forget. You have no knowledge of even human society, let alone the language, and yet you have heard of elves, heard of Lothlorien, heard of Galadriel, indeed. It seems now you even had some gift of foresight regarding the Nine Walkers and what they carried. You had never seen an orc or innards or a stuffed heart before. I have never seen anyone so terrified of getting on a horse in my life... and it has been many years, Pen-ii," he laughed. "Trust me, your behaviour in the stables was like nothing I have ever seen. Everyone knows horses… unless they have been brought up in a cave with trolls!"

"Not far off the truth, Lindir," Penny muttered.

Lindir was not sure if she was joking or not.

"Even then, Pen-ii, they would not fear approaching the animals," he said quietly. "They would consider them good eating."

The two looked at each other for a moment. Lindir was calmly waiting for her to speak and tell him whatever it was that was so strange and secret. Penny was struggling to find the words, let alone the courage, to do what she had promised.

"You are right," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a lie, if a necessary one. I always knew where I was from. I might not have always known where I _was_, but that is a different thing."

God, this was so hard talking about it openly for the first time in so long. She was aware that everyone else had gone very still. It occurred to her that this was the first time they would have heard her talk fluently about her experience. It had been Mithrandir's translation of vague thoughts, or fractured phrases and hand gestures before now: that, and then nothing more as she had tried to acclimatise and put it all behind her.

For the first time, then, they were hearing her side of it all in her own words.

Still she hesitated.

"Just start at the beginning," Arwen suggested.

Penny cast her mind back to that first morning when she had awoken in the rain and the grass, lost, alone and terrified. She could not look at Lindir. She knew what she was about to say was so outlandish, so ridiculous…

"I am not from far away, Lindir. I… I am from a different time."

Lindir furrowed his brows at her.

"My time… There are Ages between us. I had read about all of you… There is a book, several books… I knew about you all, about the War, about…" She smiled. "Even you, Lindir. You are mentioned." She risked looking at him and saw the incredulity stamped on his face.

Lindir glanced round at the others, disbelief on his face. He gave a half-laugh. "This is a joke, yes?" He looked back at Penny. "Are you serious?"

"Y-yes," she stammered. His response, as expected as it was, had upset her. She wondered if she should go on.

"Nonsense. It is another lie."

"Lindir-"

"No, Glorfindel, this is ridiculous."

"Indeed, Lindir, and yet it is as she says." Erestor, ever calm and quiet, spoke behind him.

"You believe this?" Lindir turned to him, then back to face the others. "Elrond? My lord Celeborn?"

Celeborn raised his hands in a non-committal gesture. "This is what we have been told, Lindir. It is clear Pen-ii believes it to be so. Amnesia can have strange effects, and if she had foresight also, it may be that-"

"No," Penny quickly intervened. The sharpness of her tone had been unintentional and she instantly saw the raised eyebrows. "Forgive me, Lord Celeborn, but this is no delusion." She could feel the tears coming. "It can not be. I wish it was…" She was staring at her lap, her gaze flicking sideways at Lindir as she spoke. "So many times I _thought_ it was… I-I can not explain it, Lindir… I can only tell you the truth-"

"The truth? How is such a thing possible?"

"I am from a long time distant from this one-"

"Are you insane?"

Penny looked at him.

"I thought I was at first, Lindir, yes. I really did think I was insane. I know Halbarad was very worried about me. I knew this story so well, loved it so and now I was there, inside it… Have you any idea what that was like for me? Can you even begin to guess? I cannot expect you to understand. For you the old tales are alive still, no matter how long ago." She glanced at Galadriel. "You have those among you who saw it all, who can tell you firsthand what happened Ages ago." She turned back to Lindir. "Imagine, though, some ordinary mortal woman from this time, from now, suddenly waking up in Doriath or Nargothrond or Valinor… She would think herself crazy, would she not? That was how it was for me, Lindir!"

Lindir clearly looked sceptical.

"Her knowledge was too detailed," Elrond said quietly. "There was no way it could have been mere foresight."

"Pure detailed invention combined with foresight was a possibility," Erestor added.

Penny threw her head up sharply to stare at him in disbelief. How could he say something like that?

"I do not say I believe it, Pen-ii, merely that it was and remains a possibility. It was discussed at the time."

Penny could not believe this.

"What? What are you saying? 'Remains a possibilty'?"

"Time will tell," Galadriel murmured. "Once the details of all you knew have been confirmed with Estel and Maura and the rest…"

Oh, great! So she was 'under suspicion' till bloody Minas Tirith was she? Her fury and distress were palpable.

"We believe you," Arwen said quietly. "We have believed you from the first, however strange it was. That will confirm it, that is all. Estel and Mithrandir have already confirmed much in their brief reports sent back to Father. Do not be upset, Pen-ii."

Lindir was shaking his head trying to take this in. "Mithrandir believed this?"

"Mithrandir was the first to understand and explain it. The first to get some insight into why she felt so very strange and different to us all," Glorfindel replied.

Lindir rose and came over to Penny, crouching down beside her.

"Forgive me if I seem harsh. If all of these in all their wisdom believe you, then so must I. It just seems so… strange."

"I know." Penny choked back the tears. "I know it does, Lindir. I wanted to tell you long ago, and I hesitated because not many people were meant to know and I did not know if you would believe me or how you would react." She glanced up at him. "I lived through it. Every detail, every day of what they were going through. I could not speak or say anything to them about some of what may happen before they left, because I knew… I knew he would fall. I knew it had to be, that any one thing changed might mean Sauron would win. I could not risk that." Her cheeks were wet. "You are used to us mortals dying, perhaps. You live with that knowledge all the time, but I… I…"

"So the rumours about you and Boromir…?" Lindir said quietly.

She shook her head. "I knew he would fall at Amon Hen. I could not bear to get to know him, to possibly become his friend like I already had done with…"

She sobbed as she said Halbarad's name, bringing her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking. Arwen leaned closer to rub her back gently even as Lindir took one hand his eyes, his face filled with concern and sympathy.

"I really thought I was mad. At first I thought it was a trick. I went to sleep in my home and woke up… I was in the middle of nowhere. It was raining. I was in my bedclothes. I was cold and lost and… None of my friends would do something like that to me. I could not understand who had done it or how or why. I was very scared and very confused. I walked nearly all day, trying to find someone or a road or… And Halbarad scared and confused me also. He did not speak my language, and I could not understand how I could have got so far away from home that someone did not understand me. He was dressed in clothes-"

She hesitated.

"Go on," Celeborn said gently, a faint smile on his face as if vaguely amused at what she might be about to say.

"Well, no one wears clothes like this anymore. They have not for hundreds of years. No one wears swords on their belts or has arrows on their shoulders." She looked at Elrond. "I looked at his sword, you know. Touched the blade. He shouted at me so loudly I cut myself on it."

"I know. He told us. He really did wonder if you were mad at that point. You nearly lost a finger." He smiled and there was a faint chuckle from Glorfindel.

"I just… If someone has a sword in my time it is not sharpened. It is for ceremony or play. No one uses such a thing. No one needs such a thing. I wanted to see if… When I realised it was sharp… That scared me so much."

She went very quiet.

"I did not think I would survive the night."

"You did not think to run?" Lindir asked.

"Run where? I had no shoes. And he had a horse, Lindir, he could have caught me. At the same time he fed me and gave me a blanket and did not seem evil. But I…" The tears welled up once more at the memories of Halbarad. "He was so very kind to me and very patient."

There was silence as they waited for her to continue.

"At first I thought people were pretending to live as people did long ago. Perhaps for education or pleasure." Explaining the concept of role-playing in her still only marginally fluent Sindarin would have to wait for another day. "And then I started noticing things… little things… The hobbits were too… Their feet, their size… their pointed ears…"

There were smiles and slightly raised eyebrows at the 'pointed ears' remark.

"And then the scenery and it seemed so old, so… I realised it was no joke. I thought perhaps I was sick, ill… That this was all in my head, like a dream. Then after days and all the details, I realised it could not be a dream. But at the same time, how could it be true? How? How was this possible?" She looked at Lindir, a hint of desperation in her voice suddenly, as if reliving the whole thing once more. "Just as you asked me just now, Lindir: how? Why? I have no idea. Mithrandir had no idea. You just heard that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel do not know. All I know is where I was, and I woke up, and now I am here. And I still half expect myself to wake up and sit up and find myself back home or in an infirmary somewhere with my brother and my m-m-mother…"

She broke down then. Sobbing once more, she turned into the arms of Arwen, who held her just as her grandmother had done previously.

"This is indeed strange," Lindir murmured to himself, still trying to get his head round it all.

"Yet true," Elrond added. "As I said just now, we were sceptical at first, but the detail… She could not have imagined or invented it. She was precisely right too many times. Foreknowledge is general, or specific only in one or two facts perhaps. Not like this. She knew. She knew just as if it had been written down blow by blow. As Galadriel says, once we have spoken to Estel then the rest will be confirmed, but I have no doubt it will do so."

"But-"

Elrond held up his hand. "I know, Lindir. Trust me, I was perhaps amongst the hardest to convince at first."

There were coughs and mutters from Erestor and Glorfindel. Elrond raised an eyebrow at them.

"Nothing. Do, please… carry on," murmured Erestor.

"I do not blame you, Lord Elrond. Nor you, Lindir," Penny said quietly. "I would not believe it if I were in your position, truth be told. I still find it hard to believe. I have… almost got used to elves." She attempted a smile and there was gentle laughter then.

"This explains much, then." Lindir tried to help her lighten the mood. "Your curiousity getting the better of you with orcs, for example."

Celeborn looked alarmed. "What was this?"

"Oh, nothing serious, grandfather. Pen-ii saw more than she might have wanted to, that was all."

"You know about that?"

"But of course, Pen-ii! It is not every day we have a mortal throwing up over dead orcs!" Arwen laughed.

"Well, it is some comfort, perhaps, to know their kind is no longer known in your time, Pen-ii," Celeborn smiled. "And that there are no Eldar is not unexpected."

Silence fell, if only for a moment. It was not exactly sad, either, more a resignation that what would come to pass was inevitable and long written.

"It is our loss," Penny said quietly. "But you will go West and you will be happier there. Better for you not to see what becomes of this place when you all go."

She looked up and caught Galadriel regarding her with a sad smile. She was suddenly struck by the words she had just used and could not stop the phrase 'I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel' flitting through her head. Galadriel's eyes widened slightly in astonishment, her gaze seemed suddenly sharper.

If anyone else noticed they did not react or comment on it.

"Is it really so bad?" Celeborn was serious. "You have no dark lord, no orcs…"

"We have something nearly as bad: humans. Morgoth's shadow will never leave Arda. You know that. Now I understand that that is what it is. I have never experienced war or battle firsthand, but that does not mean it does not occur. It does. And it is perhaps far more terrifying than anything experienced by you."

Celeborn raised a very sceptical eyebrow. "As one who knows nothing of war, you speak with certainty. I doubt it, Pen-ii, with all my respect to you."

"I do not expect you to believe me. And indeed humans fighting each other is perhaps not the same as facing great evil terrors like Balrogs or orcs or trolls or Sauron himself. But the damage done… the weapons… the number of dead..."

She trailed off. How she had got onto this she had no idea, but she felt she should stop now before the hole she was digging got any bigger.

"Mithrandir said something about this. Said you had suggested he would not want to know and he had agreed."

"Yes, Elrond. That is true."

Glances were exchanged, mainly by the ellyn. All were warriors, all had seen battle and knew what it was to know fear, see death and smell blood. If Mithrandir had hesitated asking more…

"We will have to take you at your word," Elrond said at last. "Perhaps you are right and it is best that we not remain to see such things."

Penny noticed his choice of words: 'remain'. Of course, one amongst them had made her choice already. She would not remain, it was true, but for an entirely different reason that that of her father.

"Come," Glorfindel said suddenly. "If Lindir is satisfied as much as he can be, and the Lord and Lady do not object, shall we go and join in the dancing and song we can hear in the distance? Otherwise we will arrive too late for Pen-ii to enjoy it before she needs to take her rest. I also intend to sample some of Rhimlath's plum brew which he says is rather fine this year."

"You may regret that decision," Celeborn laughed. "It has the kick of a mule."

"Excellent!" Glorfindel grinned.

As they stood and made to leave, Penny, having recovered herself a little, turned to Lindir.

"I realise this seems strange, and I am sorry I did not tell you before… Will you forgive me?"

"Of course. With knowledge such as yours, I understand why Lord Elrond and the rest were so cautious about who knew." He looked at her, as if reassessing her, taking her in for the first time. He nodded, as much to himself as to her. "It will take a little time for me to accept it, perhaps, but I believe you. For the first time in a while, I feel you are not lying or hiding anything from me. Whether it is true or not, you believe it. The others here say it is true, and that is enough for me. You are my friend, Pen-ii. You shall always remain so, I hope."

She smiled. "Thank you, Lindir. It means a lot to me that you can be so forgiving."

"Ah, well now, do not speak too soon. I demand at least one dance tonight. One dance or I will not forgive you at all!" He grinned.

"Not fair!"

"Perfectly fair. More than reasonable, in fact."

They bickered all the way back to the clearing.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Thanks again to everyone who has left reviews and comments in various places. All are much appreciated, as is the enthusiasm and support.

I hasten to add, before anyone points it out, that I am not comparing the French to trolls, even though the French (and probably others) consider horsemeat perfectly acceptable eating. It merely occurred to me as I was writing that section that that would be the kind of thing trolls would do: kill and eat horses. Probably the least of their sins, I would have thought.


	13. Hitchcock Would Be Proud

**Chapter 13 **- _Hitchcock Would Be Proud_

The evening passed easily enough. Penny felt a strange mixture of relief and anxiety throughout it, though. She kept catching Lindir looking at her oddly, though if he realised it, his face would always break into a reassuring smile. It was clearly a lot for him to take on board and would take time for him to get used to.

Penny did not stay long at the impromptu festivities. Meaning she left before the early hours and the rest probably got little or no rest at all. But then elves do not need rest the way humans do.

Penny felt bad about leaving early since Eleniel and Mireth insisted on accompanying her.

"No, you stay. Enjoy yourselves. I'm just tired, that's all."

And not just with the travelling. The little scene in the glade with Galadriel and Celeborn had left her feeling drained. After two cups of wine she felt like she was about to zonk out there and then.

"You cannot go to sleep all by yourself," they protested.

"Well, then promise me you will go back after I have collapsed. Really, I can cope by myself… Honest, I can!"

They would not accept 'no' for an answer.

"So, you met the Lady of the Wood at last," Mireth was saying excitedly as Penny had a quick wash and then combed out her hair. "Oh, how wonderful!"

"Yes. A great honour." Penny's tone was thoughtful. "She… she was a great help to me. Lord Celeborn also."

"They have told you something of your past?" Eleniel asked.

"Not exactly."

Penny put down the comb and looked at the pair of them, sitting on the cot next to hers.

"They advised me to be more open with those who do not know my story. I… Well…" She floundered suddenly.

Eleniel smiled.

"We realised long ago there was more to you than perhaps we were told. It is not every day we have strangers such as you in Imladris, and the fact that you were taken under the wing of both Erestor and Lindir at Lord Elrond's insistence…"

"Your long talks with Elrond," Mireth added.

"As well as those with Mithrandir," Eleniel continued.

"Oh." Penny blinked.

"Do not look so alarmed," Mireth laughed. "And we do not blame you for not speaking sooner. You had your reasons and were no doubt acting under the guidance of those far wiser than all of us sitting here put together." She reached out for Penny's hand, laying hers on top. "We are your friends, Pen-ii. We understand some of what the situation may be."

Best to come straight out with it, then.

"I had foresight. The War, the Nine Walkers… Sauron's fall. In some detail."

"Ah." Eleniel nodded. "I thought it might be something like that."

"You were not the only one." Mireth smiled. "You could have said something. Many of us knew of Estel's history and felt his time was come."

"Arwen for one."

"Well, exactly."

"I know I could have spoken, perhaps should have," Penny replied. "But… Elrond advised that as few people know as possible. Since the War finished I have wondered if I should speak and, if so, then when… I did not know if-"

"Lady Galadriel has now advised you do so?" Eleniel interrupted.

"It was Lord Celeborn, actually, but Lady Galadriel hinted at it also."

Mireth's face broke into a wide grin. "Well, there you are, then. So now we know and you do not have to worry, and everything is fine!"

"Well, yes… I suppose…" Penny had not expected this to all go quite as smoothly. She berated herself a little for having waited so long to say anything.

"When you say 'in some detail'…?" Eleniel suddenly looked serious.

Penny looked at her. "I knew about some of those who would fall. I knew much of what they might face on their journey: Moria, Mordor… the actions of Saruman…"

Mireth's expression suddenly matched Eleniel's. "Poor Pen-ii. Now I understand why you were so very quiet and withdrawn after they left."

Eleniel said nothing but came to sit beside Penny, wrapping her arms around her.

Mireth sighed. "I take it Arwen knew? At least she was able to comfort you a little."

Penny nodded as Eleniel pulled back from her. "Yes, though it was difficult given much of what I knew concerned Estel. I did not feel I could talk about it too often or in too much detail."

"Well, it is over now, yes?"

Penny did not answer. Mireth and Eleniel exchanged the briefest of glances.

"Oh, Pen-ii…" Eleniel whispered. "Is it very bad?"

"No. Serious, but not… It does not concern the elves."

"Well, we shall have to try and take your mind off it," Mireth said brightly. "We shall keep you busy and entertained as best we can."

"Well, yes, you have your little outing with Rhimlath to look forward to tomorrow, for a start." Eleniel smirked.

"Oh, don't!" Penny groaned.

They laughed.

"Actually, if truth be told I am really looking forward to it. I have heard and know so much about Lothlorien that it will be wonderful to see it. … Even if I do have Rhimlath droning on at me all the while."

"Yes, but you managed to drag Lindir into the trap of his own making. That should compensate somewhat."

"I notice you managed to avoid being invited." Mireth raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"I was engaged in conversation." Eleniel looked straight faced but there was a twinkle in her eye that belied it. "I did not know what was going on until too late… Fortunately. You both know I would have been delighted to join you, Pen-ii."

The three exchanged a glance for a moment and then fell about giggling.

As it happened, Rhimlath's guided tour did not begin straight away. First there was washing to be done. Early, straight after breakfast, Penny, Mireth and Eleniel along with several other ellith gathered themselves and their journey-stained clothes together and wandered through the trees to where a stream ran downhill. Given their numbers the visitors could not all do this at once. Rather a steady trickle of ellith would come here throughout the day and the ellyn would repeat the procedure tomorrow. Much like in Bree, slabs had been set into the bank to act as steps, seats and a platform to bash cloth against.

They got stuck in.

Once you got used to the sheer physical energy needed to handwash clothes like this, it was quite enjoyable. It was good exercise, that was for certain. Penny was that much fitter and stronger than when she had first arrived thanks to doing this on a regular basis, more than the gardening. It was also quite a sociable affair since you were never alone. Someone would start up a tune and everyone would join in. Gossiping was a large part of washing clothes, too. Penny grinned and joined in the laughter as the ellith related tales or calamities and embarrassments that had befallen various inhabitants of Lothlorien. The few locals that had joined them added or corrected various bits and then told tales of their own.

It helped to make an otherwise laborious and tedious job pass all the quicker. It was barely mid-morning when Penny, a basket of damp clothes under her arm, tramped back to the camp, arm-in-arm with Eleniel and with Mireth singing a tune that even Penny now knew the words to and could join in on for the chorus.

The tents for the males were on the other side of the clearing to those for the ellith, and so anything that was placed behind their respective groups of tents and awnings would not be visible to the others. Lines were run from the ellith's tents to the nearby trees for wet clothes. In this way undershifts and leggings could be dried in the open air without too much embarrassment and comment. Penny presumed, correctly, a similar arrangement had been made for the ellyn.

Their clothes hung out, Eleniel wondered out loud if they should bathe now or later.

"We need time for our hair to dry," Mireth pointed out. "Added to which the nearer to this evening's festivities, the busier it will be."

'It?' Penny was alarmed. 'Please don't let it be yet more communal bathing. PLEASE!'

Much to her relief, it was not.

In fact 'it' turned out to be a dedicated bathing house. Indeed there were several of them dotted throughout the city. Needs must since most lived up in the branches. Trying to get water pumped up into the trees would have been possible, perhaps, but ridiculously unnecessary and very difficult given the height the water would have to reach. Why bother when you could just have buildings for the purpose of bathing on the ground? Far more practical.

In each of the bath houses, water was diverted from some of the streams and tributaries that ran through the city to a tap positioned directly over large 'boilers' not dissimilar to the ones in Imladris. These were positioned at one end of a long, low building that contained cubicles with tubs in them. Another tap was available for cold water, as well as a permanently stocked supply of buckets, jugs, towels, soaps, shampoos, scented oils and various other herbal necessities kept in glass, stoppered jars.

Of course, when Mireth, Eleniel and Penny got to the one nearest to their camp they realised everyone else had had the same idea about going early to beat the rush. There was already a group of ellith outside waiting for a second load of water to heat and for the first group already washing to vacate the tubs.

They decided to grab the nearest passing Galadhrim and ask to be shown where another female bathing house was.

It turned out to be a bit of a walk.

"Well, we're getting to see something of Lothlorien, at least," Mireth commented.

Every time Penny passed by a set of stairs winding up a tree from the ground, or else a ladder leaning up against a trunk, she had to resist the urge to go exploring.

"Is it not wonderful?" Eleniel beamed.

Their guide finally directed them to a similarly built long, low building to the one they had left. Here too they had been beaten to it by others with the same idea, but they were fewer in number so at least there would not be so long to wait. They joined the others and chattered quietly.

As the little cubicles (they could not strictly be termed 'rooms' since the dividers between them did not reach the ceiling) became free one by one, those waiting helped fill a tub for one of their number. The Briton in Penny raised a mental eyebrow at the haphazardness of the queuing system (in that it did not exist at all) but she said nothing.

Penny helped Mireth fill her tub and then insisted Eleniel take the next one that came free. Much as she was desperate to have a good scrub, she knew how much more this meant to them than it ever could to her, being elves and thus obsessed with cleanliness. As it happened the tub that became free next was between the two of them, so as they soaked and washed, the three chatted or listen to the gossip floating over the dividing screens.

It was communal without the 'communal bathing' element. Penny liked it.

As Penny lay back in the warm water, she smiled, letting a gossipy story wash over her head of some elleth from long ago who had somehow managed to get herself dangling near enough naked from a talan by one ankle only to then be rescued by an over-enthusiastic ellon who had heard her shrieks of alarm (much to her eternal embarrassment, though he - unsurprisingly, perhaps - became her betrothed not long afterwards).

Ah, this was the life.

"Much better than a freezing cold river, eh, Pen-ii?" said a voice drifting over the top of the screen to her right.

"You read my thoughts precisely, Eleniel."

They wandered back to camp at a leisurely pace in a group of eight or so. Penny suddenly felt very much 'one of the girls,' which was quite a nice feeling. The proceedings of the night before had to some extent lifted a weight from her that she had not really realised she was carrying. She wondered if this was what Galadriel had meant about 'feeling freer than she had done up till now.' Very probably, Penny suspected.

They found Lindir and Rhimlath waiting for them. Rhimlath had clearly been giving Lindir chapter and verse already since Lindir had a faintly frazzled look about him and seemed inordinately pleased to see them all.

"Oh, there you are! At last! Thank Elbereth!"

"I was just telling Lindir about our itinerary for the day,LadyPen-ii," Rhimlath explained.

There was faint giggling from some of the group as Lindir quite clearly winced.

"It is a shame we have lost most of the morning already," he continued, "But no matter."

"It is getting near to lunch, Rhimlath," Lindir pointed out. "Could we not-"

"There is a good while yet before then, Lindir. I was thinking we might collect a few edibles and take them with us. That way we can eat elsewhere as we wander round the city rather than have to come all the way back here. Besides which, I am sure Lady Pen-ii would wish to get started straight away. There is a lot to see. What do you say, Lady Pen-ii?"

"Well, um, I, er," spluttered Penny.

"Good, good. Right, well, let us get going, then." Rhimlath was all breeziness and cheery smiles.

"I will take these and put them away for you if you like," Eleniel murmured. She could barely contain her smirk as she collected Penny's things from her arms before Penny could stop her.

"You could always join us," Penny replied, her eyes narrowing and her smile slightly forced.

"Oh, yes, please do, Eleniel!" Rhimlath beamed.

"Ah, I have something to do. Urgent. Cannot wait..."

Eleniel mumbled something indistinct even as she headed, as fast as she decently could, towards the tents. The other elleth followed her before Rhimlath could invite them also.

Lindir may have been bored to tears but Penny actually thoroughly enjoyed Rhimlath's tour. He led them through glades and past fountains, explained gardening schemes and building techniques, lectured on histories and significances, the artistic merits or otherwise of everything they saw. There were many buildings on ground level, mostly for practical purposes, but some were living quarters also. As in Imladris, there were areas for smithing, for crafts and artistry, archery practice and stables, and much more besides.

Rhimlath was clearly trying to cram in as much as possible.

"May I remind you that there is an evening of festivities tonight, Rhimlath. We do not want to exhaust Pen-ii too much by going too far." Lindir was trying to find any excuse to call a halt to it all.

"Ah, yes, you are right. We perhaps will have to cut it short and continue tomorrow."

"Continue… _What!_"

"Oh, yes, _please_!" Penny practically bounced.

"You are enjoying this far too much, you know," Lindir hissed at her.

"Yes, but… it is _Lothlorien_, Lindir!" She grinned at him. He could see the pure joy and wonder in her face and could not help but return her smile. "After last night I thought you might better understand what this means to me: to be here, to see it all…"

The place itself had a kind of euphoric affect, Penny had to admit. Added to that was the sheer thrill and exhilaration of being where she was and surrounded by elves being very, very elvish indeed. It was wondrous.

"Ah, I feel like I am a child again. I just want to _run_!"

She darted off at speed, the bright green grass under her feet, her arms outstretched, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Wheeeeeeeee!"

She ran up to the nearest mallorn and hugged it.

Well, stretched her arms out flat against it, which was the nearest you could get to 'hugging' it, given the width of the thing. She laid her cheek against the trunk, her eyes closed and a beam on her face. She breathed a happy sigh.

Lindir was shaking his head and laughing. Rhimlath seemed torn between bemusement and clear frustration that this was now holding up his tour.

"Yes, _just_ like a child. I can see it now, Pen-ii," Lindir sniggered.

"Yes, but in some respects she is and always will be a child, of course."

Penny peeled herself off the mallorn and looked at Rhimlath.

"Meaning?"

"Well, the Secondborn _are_ like children to us. Not only that you are… what? Eighteen? Twenty-five? Thirty-three?" He sighed as Penny's eyebrows shot up higher and higher at each completely random guess at her age. "Well, under fifty anyway. I always find it impossible to tell with the Secondborn."

"Oh, I see!" Penny retorted, hands on hips. "We all look the same to you, is that it?"

"Well," Rhimlath said slowly. "I would not put it _quite_ like that."

"Except that he would." Lindir smirked at Penny, who laughed.

"Ah, but Rhimlath, we cannot all be as old as the Ages, you know. Where would be the fun in that?" Penny grinned. "Now, while this is has all been very interesting so far, when am I going to go upwards, hmm?" She pointed vaguely at the treetops.

"Oh, well, I had not planned just yet-"

"But we will have to go back soon. Lindir's right about tonight, and I do not want to be too tired to enjoy it all. I am so looking forward to it. We can continue tomorrow, but please, can I go up one tree today? Please?"

"You know, I would swear you are regressing back to your childhood with all this kind of behaviour."

She stuck her tongue out at Lindir. "Shush, you!"

Rhimlath raised an eyebrow. He was still not used to one of the Firstborn being spoken to like that.

"Please, Rhimlath?"

"Well, yes, I suppose-"

"Oh, _fantastic_! Thank you!"

"It will be a long climb…"

"I do not mind."

"A very long climb…"

"It does not matter."

"And we will go very high," Lindir warned.

"I do not care."

Of course, it did matter and she did both mind and care in the end, but she could not say they had not warned her.

The tree Rhimlath took them to had a staircase that wound anticlockwise round the outside of the trunk like a snake coiled round a prey. It was narrow but two people could pass by each other easily enough on its width. Rhimlath led the way and Lindir took up the rear.

Round and round they wound till Penny began to feel faintly dizzy at perpetually going round in circles like that. She stopped to catch her breath. She had no idea how long they had been climbing for. It was still vaguely disorientating for her at times to have no access to a watch or clocks, but most days ambled away without it bothering. She could have been climbing for no more than ten minutes. It felt like an hour, though she felt certain it could not have been anything like that.

"Is it much further?"

Lindir snickered. "We did warn you."

"I am not complaining, only asking, Lindir."

Rhimlath, realising they had stopped stepped back down a few treads. "Not much further now, Lady Pen-ii. We are very high up already. Look."

He gestured about himself.

Penny had not really focused much beyond the steps in front of her as she climbed. She had been aware of leaves crowding in on occasion to her right and the odd branch above her, but not much more. Now she stopped to take it in, she could see they were indeed up in the canopy. In the distance she could make out platforms and figures climbing or descending staircases or ladders in trees nearby. There was, above, one or two walkways just visible through the trees. She clasped the rail, craning her neck upwards to see them. Some were not too far above her at all.

Penny had never suffered from vertigo so she did not think twice about looking downwards, trying to gauge how far they had climbed already. The grass was far distant, but it was hard to determine exactly how far. There was nothing to provide any sense of scale.

Until someone walked across her field of view that was.

Penny's eyes opened wide. Wow. Okay. Yes. They were high up, weren't they?

"Pen-ii?"

She didn't reply. She was fixing her gaze down into the depths below, suddenly aware that the only thing keeping her up this high was a few planks nailed onto a tree.

You see, standing on the roof of a concrete high rise building, or even on the platform of the Eiffel Tower was one thing, but this staircase stuck out from the trunk, supported by A-frames underneath along its length. It was of course, perfectly solid and safe, but Penny's brain was now in overdrive. Below her feet, her brain was telling her, was just one plank of wood and then nothing else except air. A couple of hundred feet of air at least. Followed by hard, solid earth. What if the plank splintered? What if a nail came loose? What if something was rotten or old or had come unstuck or she was too heavy or stepped on just the wrong bit or…?

Lindir and Rhimlath exchanged a glance as they both realised her breathing had quickened. Her grip on the side of the barrier was so tight her knuckles were white.

"Shall we carry on, Lady Pen-ii?" Rhimlath tried to sound cheery.

Still no response.

"Pen-ii, are you feeling well?" Lindir asked gently.

Penny shook her head.

"Do you want to go back down again?" Lindir suggested.

She nodded. Very, very vigorously too.

Again a shared, knowing glance between Lindir and Rhimlath.

"Well, you will need to let go of the rail first," Lindir quietly pointed out, smiling.

She did not move.

He came over to her and forcibly prised her fingers free. He could feel she was practically rigid with fright. The moment she was free from holding on to the barrier she stepped backwards till she was pressed flat up against the trunk.

"I am sorry, Lady Pen-ii." Rhimlath was genuinely apologetic in tone. "It is very high and if you are not used to such things…"

"It is not the height," Penny managed to croak out. "It is…"

She could not even try and explain because that would mean thinking about it even more. She tried to press herself even further back against the trunk, if that were possible, and whimpered slightly. She needed to get off this damn thing and fast. She could feel herself beginning to completely freak out.

Rhimlath noticed her reaction.

"The staircase is perfectly safe."

He jumped up and down a few times to prove his point. The stairs vibrated very gently, as if a breeze had shaken a branch and no more. It was enough to make Penny nearly hysterical, though.

"Do not _do_ that! Please! Stop! No! I need to get off! I need to get down! _Right now!_ I cannot… I…"

She was shaking her head, apologising, trying to stop herself from breaking into hysterical sobs because she knew she was being a complete idiot and yet so overcome with fear that she could not do anything else.

She started down the stairs at a run. The quicker she got off them, or down to a lower level at least, the less far she would fall if the thing collapsed, so she reasoned.

Lindir and Rhimlath started after her, calling her name and telling her to stop or slow down before she tripped and fell down the rest of the flight.

"You will break your neck at that speed,Lady Pen-ii!" Rhimlath was shouting.

"Oh, very helpful!" Lindir snapped at him. "That is all she needs to hear!"

"What? It is true!"

"That is hardly the point! Oh, forget it! PEN-II! STOP!"

She did not stop, though. Not until she was back on solid ground, her heart racing and breathing hard, as much from the run as from the fear. She knew she had been a fool, but at the same time vertigo was vertigo and she did not berate herself too hard. She had not had much control over her reaction, nor expected it to occur.

The two ellyn were right behind her. That they were barely breaking a sweat spoke volumes: that was fit warrior elves for you.

"Right. Can we get an explanation, please?" Lindir shook his head. "We did warn you it was high up, but oh, no, you know better, as usual."

"It was not the height. I have been high up before."

Rhimlath look puzzled and interested but Penny ploughed on before he was able to ask.

"It was the staircase. It is not solid. It sticks out. It…"

She trailed off as two pairs of eyebrows arched at her.

"Are you saying that is poor workmanship?"

"Are you suggesting I would take you onto something that was potentially dangerous?"

"N-no," Penny stammered. "I… It was… I…"

"I'll have you know that staircase is very old. It has stood the test of time. Centuries at least."

"What! And that is meant to reassure me? The older things are the weaker they are and more likely to fall apart!"

"I beg your pardon!" Lindir and Rhimlath looked outraged.

"Ah, now, wait!" Penny replied hurriedly. "That did not come out right. I meant… You see…"

Lindir could not help but laugh. "Ai, Pen-ii. What shall we do with you, hmm? If it is not one thing it is something else with you. Well, we have had some good exercise in that little adventure if nothing else."

"I am sorry. Truly. I had no idea that would happen to me. I have no idea how it happened. I could not help it."

"Do not worry yourself," Rhimlath replied. "It is not uncommon for those unused to such things to find them a little overwhelming." He smiled condescendingly.

"Now, look here, Rhimlath." Penny rounded on him hotly. "This has nothing to do with my being mortal."

"Er, Pen-ii?" Lindir's tone was a warning one.

"Well, it is not."

"Indeed, but no elf would have behaved like that," Rhimlath explained.

"Only because you are used to such things."

"We also have more faith in elvish workmanship," Lindir pointed out. "That staircase has stood for a long time, as Rhimlath just told you. It is as solid as the tree itself."

"I know. I do know that. My brain had other ideas, that was all. I am determined to try again."

"What? Not with me, you will not! I am not going through that again!" Lindir laughed.

"Fine. I will ask Mireth or Eleniel."

"We can try again tomorrow if you like," Rhimlath said kindly. "After all we did agree we would continue the tour, did we not?"

"Oh, yes, so we did." Penny beamed.

"We did?"

"Yes, Lindir, we did."

"I could have sworn we never reached an agreement on that, actually."

"No, no, we said we would do this all again tomorrow," Rhimlath said breezily. "Now, if we are to make it back in time to prepare ourselves for this evening, we had better head off. In fact… Lindir you know the way from here, do you not? I may head back to my talan, if it is all the same to you. I shall see you later."

"Of course, Rhimlath."

"Thank you!" Penny smiled. "And I really do apologise about just now. I feel dreadfully silly."

"No need. We shall make another try tomorrow. Till this evening."

They watched him disappear into the trees then turned and headed towards the camp.

"I am not coming with you tomorrow, by the way."

"But you have to!"

"I most certainly do not! You arranged it, you agreed to it. You can do it all by yourself."

"That is very unfriendly of you."

"No, it is called self-preservation. I would prefer to leave Lothlorien with my sanity intact, if it is all the same to you."

"I thought he was a friend of yours?"

"He is. A very dear and old friend. That does not mean I will put up with his history lessons for two whole days, Pen-ii. Be reasonable."

Lindir did have a point, Penny had to admit.

"Anyway, enough of that. Are you looking forward to tonight? It should be entertaining."

"Yes, very much. Will most of Lothlorien be there?"

"Oh, I expect so. Why?"

"It is just… well… Do you know an ellon called Haldir?"

Lindir looked at her. "I do not think so. Why?"

"He was the one that met the Walkers when they entered Lothlorien. He and his brothers, Rumil and Orophin. I would like to meet them or at least have them pointed out to me."

"Ah, I see. Well, I know an Orophin, and there can only be one. I think I met his brothers once. Yes, yes, I am sure I did now I think of it. Only very briefly, though."

He looked at her for a moment.

"This is all very strange, you know. Very, very strange."

"I realise. I am sorry."

"Do not apologise. Hardly your fault." He smiled. "I am happy if I can help in any small way. If I see Orophin there I will point him out or introduce you."

Penny grinned. She had already been looking forward to this evening, but now… 'Ah, if only the Mary-Sues could see me now,' she thought, a huge smirk plastered all over her face.

Yes, this evening was going to be very interesting indeed

* * *

Author's Note: Before anyone asks or points out they or someone they know suffers from vertigo differently, this reaction is based entirely on my own experience in the Duomo in Florence. A solid base on which to stand is no problem for me, but the gallery round the inside of the dome of the Duomo is a platform sticking out from the wall. I was paralysed with fear, despite having been to great heights before (and since, might I add), and had to go back down again. 


	14. I Won't Dance, Don't Ask Me

**Chapter 14** – _"I Won't Dance, Don't Ask Me"_

The feast was held in a huge glade that was very near the centre of Caras Galadhon. Dusk was gathering, the shadows deepening, as Penny made her way with Mireth, Celebdor, Eleniel and Lindir down paths and over rivulets till at last they reached the spot. Lanterns intricately crafted from various precious metals were hung all round about. They were highly polished and many filled with coloured glass or even bejewelled, so the light shining out from them was changed and reflected in ways that was truly stunning.

There were too many people for there to be tables where all could sit to eat. Instead awnings were stretched between trees at certain points on the edge of the clearing and cushions placed underneath on intricately designed rugs so that people could sit and chatter if they felt so inclined. Already music was playing, and at one end at least three large deer were being spit-roasted. A table nearby was crammed with foodstuffs including cakes and sweetmeats, fruit and whole stuffed birds (big enough to be geese or possibly even swans), and much more besides. Next to that were great kegs of wine and cups enough for everyone. A sort of mulled wine or punch had also been made, and stood in a huge vat with a ladle attached to it by a chain. Garlands of flowers were hung round about, looking as if they had only just been fresh picked. Greenery was strung out across the huge gap between the trees, twisted into great leafy ropes with yet more lanterns dangling from them. There were not many, though, and they were sparsely spaced out since, once night fell, the moon would be nearly full and the stars bright giving quite a bit of natural light.

Penny stood, gobsmacked, trying to take it all in.

"Now, this is a party," Celebdor grinned.

Penny nodded, dully, vaguely aware that the entire place was filled with extraordinarily beautiful beings milling about in an extraordinarily beautiful manner. There had been the feast after the War, of course, but she had known or recognised all the people that had attended that. There were easily twice as many people here, well over half of them strangers, and the 'jaw-droppingly beautiful in a way that made you want to weep' effect was only multiplied tenfold when you got this many elves together and with them all dressed up to the nines.

Penny had a sudden flash of how the royal wedding might be.

'Yay for me and my boring little English human-ness,' she thought. 'Not.'

Lindir was almost immediately lost in the crowd, as was Celebdor, dragging Mireth with him. Eleniel introduced Penny to several ellyn that stepped forward, clearly recognising Eleniel from her previous visit to Lothlorien many years before. Penny was then left stranded with them as one of them dragged Eleniel off for a dance.

Penny was happy enough, though. There was so much to take in and her Sindarin was fluent enough that she could happily eavesdrop on conversations or make herself understood if someone stopped to chat.

She spotted Rhimlath, dressed in a dark forest green and gold. He was deep in earnest conversation with two other ellyn and Erestor. For all his pompous verbosity, Rhimlath was a kindly soul. He immediately realised Penny was feeling a bit at a loss and insisted she have a dance.

"Oh, no, really, I do not think-"

As usual Rhimlath did not even seem to comprehend that 'no' was a word in most people's vocabulary. Penny thus found herself in the middle of a dance that was a little faster and more complicated than the one or two she had tried before.

"Argh! I am sorry! I did try and warn you!" she blurted out as she trod on his toes for the third time.

"No matter!" he beamed back at her, whirling her round into the arms of another ellon before she could say anything more.

"Hello there," Lindir grinned at her as he took hold of her from Rhimlath.

"Oh," was about all the response Penny could summon up before she was back hand in hand with Rhimlath and being half dragged round the clearing once more.

Once it was all over she insisted she needed a sit down. She staggered to the sides as Rhimlath commandeered a slightly more willing partner for the next dance.

"Oh, dear. Rhimlath is enthusiastic in all he puts his mind to, is he not?" Arwen was laughing.

"My head is spinning. And I have not had a drop to drink yet."

Arwen laughed all the more.

"I think you did rather well, considering."

"Considering what, that I cannot dance? Or that he was impeded by my standing on his feet half the time?"

Arwen grinned. "A bit of practice and you will be as good as any here."

Penny raised an eyebrow. "You flatter me over much, Lady Arwen, as you well know. But I thank you for the sentiment and encouragement."

"Well, I have a feeling you will be getting in quite a bit of practice in the times to come. There will be dancing most nights while we are here, and more than likely in Rohan and certainly in Minas Tirith."

Oh, _joy_.

Her heart sank.

"Very well done, Pen-ii." Erestor came over to them. "As a first attempt at that kind of dance, that was not at all bad. I think Rhimlath would agree."

"Perhaps. Not sure his toes would, though."

And so the evening progressed. The roast venison was superb, the wine light and plentiful, the music cheering and rousing, the dancing never-ending, the chatter inconsequential and filled with joking and laughter. It was a wonderful evening.

"Pen-ii, I would like you to meet a friend of mine."

Lindir grabbed her as she wandered past him with a cup of wine for herself and one for Eleniel. A tall, blond ellon with a slightly serious face and the thick-set shoulders of an archer was standing next to him.

"Orophin, this is Lady Pen-ii who has been staying with us in Imladris under the protection of Lord Elrond. Pen-ii, this is Orophin, a Galadhrim and someone I got to know when I was last here in Lothlorien."

Orophin inclined his head ever so slightly and murmured something about it being an honour. Penny, several glasses of wine downed already, had to stop herself grinning like a loon as she responded in kind.

"Lady Pen-ii was eager to meet you," Lindir continued.

Penny stared at him, appalled. What was he playing at?

"She is most interested in Lothlorien, its history and ways. I feel sure she would wish to know something of life as a border guard. When I said I knew one she asked me expressly to introduce you."

"Really? Ah, well, in that case you must meet my brothers also."

Ah, so THAT was what Lindir was playing at. Orophin disappeared off to find them, giving Penny an opportunity to thank Lindir.

"Flattery will get you everywhere with an elf," he replied. "Had you not realised that?"

"Oh, believe me, I had. That or goading them."

"You did not need to smile quite so broadly at his mentioning his brothers, you know."

Penny gasped. "I did not!"

"You most certainly did. Are they really so well known in this story of yours?"

"No. I mean… Haldir perhaps, but…" She decided to switch tack. "You are mentioned as well. I probably would have been grinning the first time I met you properly if I had not been so scared of the horses and the idea of getting on one."

"Really?" That seemed to bolster Lindir somewhat. He puffed out his chest with pride a little.

"What was that about flattery?" Penny muttered, sniggering.

Orophin returned with Haldir. Rúmil was nowhere to be found. He was probably busy dancing or drinking, so Penny was informed. Haldir was most gracious, and he and his brother answered her questions most politely. They had both been at Dol Guldur, but then so had most of the warrior Galadhrim, it transpired. In fact as soon as the conversation had turned to that subject, she was forgotten. Orophin and Haldir, with the help of other ellyn nearby who were now joining in, told Lindir all about it practically blow by blow. At one point Haldir insisted on rolling up his sleeve and showing Lindir the long scar on his right forearm he still had from an orcish blade during that fight.

Penny suddenly realised that in amongst all the beauty around her she could see the odd fainter line on the skin of one or two faces or hands in the crowd. She now spotted that one of the ellyn who was helping to serve wine had lost two fingers, while another she could see nearby either had his arm strapped up under his tunic or else had lost part or all of the limb since one sleeve was pinned to his side.

Penny found it quite distressing once she had started noticing it, and once started she could not stop.

"Is this conversation your doing?" a quiet voice asked in her ear. She turned. Elrond was smiling gently.

"Yes, I am afraid. Though…" She gestured to the group of ellyn discussing tactics, battle moves, and describing death-defying moments in graphic detail (as well as bickering over their respective death counts, of course). "It seems to have gained a life all of its own."

Elrond chuckled. "Well, if you will start warriors off on these topics."

At which point he waded in with tales of derring-do on the slopes of Orodruin.

Penny blinked and looked slightly bewildered. What the hell had she started? Not that she was complaining – it was all fascinating, if a little alarming.

It was Galadriel who came to her rescue.

"Now, now, now," she clapped her hands as she glided towards them. "Enough of all this talk. This is a feast of celebration that we have so many friends and loved ones with us for the first time in so very long. Could we keep stories of beheaded orcs and dismembered trolls for another time, do we think?"

"What is all this?" Celeborn was beside her almost instantly. "What did I miss? Boasting again, Elrond?"

"Not exactly," Elrond retorted.

"Now, I could tell you a tale or two from Doriath-"

"What did I just say?" Galadriel interrupted him. "They need no encouraging. Besides, there are all these delightful ellyth that need dance partners and you are all standing about comparing notes on gruesome battle details. For shame! I need a dance partner, Arwen will be free for the next dance… Lady Pen-ii here will need a partner also. Haldir, are you free perhaps?"

Haldir looked nearly as startled and taken aback by this suggestion as Penny did. He recovered himself well, though.

"But of course, my lady."

"Ah, no, you see… um, wine… Eleniel..." Penny waved the two cups at them all. "Another time perhaps. Forgive me, Lord Haldir."

She fled.

"Lord? _Lord_ Haldir?" Orophin was laughing hysterically.

"She was just being polite. As a Secondborn it was most proper and generous of her." Haldir's tone made it clear he felt Orophin could probably learn a thing or two from Lady Pen-ii.

Not long after that the music stopped and a hush fell on the crowd. Celeborn and Elrond both said a few words, invoking blessings on the coming union as well as on the lasting friendship and alliance between the peoples of Imladris and Lothlorien. It suddenly occurred to Penny that the date for most of them sailing West had perhaps not yet been decided upon. She knew full well there would be some that would stay – Celeborn for start would not sail with his wife – but the wording made it all seem so open-ended, as if it would continue just as it had done, and yet she knew that not one elf standing there thought that things had not changed, that now Sauron was gone their time was come at last.

They had been waning before; now the mantle had truly been passed over to the mortal races.

As she scanned the crowd, sitting next to Eleniel, she spotted Haldir and Orophin chatting with a third ellon who bore so strikingly a similar resemblance to them that he had to be Rúmil. Rúmil did seem to be teetering slightly, and thus obviously had indeed been camped out at the wine table earlier as had been suggested.

In a flash, Penny realised that within her line of sight were Haldir and his brothers, Celeborn, Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel. In the same split second that she realised this, and entirely without warning, snatches of nearly every slash fic she had ever come across were speeding through her brain.

'Thank God the twins and Legolas aren't here!'

To her horror she then realised that, the speeches over, Galadriel was meandering through the crowd and heading her direction. Of course, the more she tried to not think about a fictional Glorfindel seducing an equally fictional Erestor or an out of character Haldir mooning about over an overly effete Legolas, the more it refused to leave her brain. She tried focusing on the first tune that came to her, but that was not helped by the minstrels starting up nearby and playing something completely different. In desperation she ended up sticking her fingers in her ears and humming along to The Ride of the Valkyries.

"Pen-ii? Are you well?"

Penny lifted her head and took her fingers out of her ears sheepishly. "Yes, yes, I am fine, Eleniel…" Eleniel could see that something was troubling her, though. "Talk to me, Eleniel. Talk to me about anything. I need to think about something."

"But of course."

Eleniel somehow seemed to take this request completely within her stride despite Penny's desperate and faintly pleading tone. She started pointing out the minute detail in the embroidery on all the tunics and dresses nearby. She explained the stitches, the beading used, the threads, how the threads were dyed and so on.

Penny was so grateful.

"Lady Pen-ii," Galadriel murmured as she came up to them. "Lady Eleniel. You are having a pleasant evening, I trust?"

"Oh, yes, indeed, my Lady." Eleniel beamed.

Penny nodded, smiling, but concentrating very hard on the intricate flower detailing on the sleeve of Galadriel's dress. If Galadriel noticed she did not say anything and immediately moved on.

Penny let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Eleniel. Thank you so much."

Eleniel smiled. "It can get like that sometimes. When the foresight comes upon you, it can be hard to think about something else." She spoke as if from experience.

Penny glanced at her. Far better to let her think that was what had happened than even _consider_ trying to explain.

"Any time, Pen-ii, you just ask." She smiled.

Penny was suddenly struck by what a good friend she had in Eleniel. "I cannot thank you enough," she said quietly.

"Nonsense," Eleniel laughed. "I know you would do the same for me. Now, shall we have another cup of wine, or shall we try and find someone to give us a dance?"

They must have overheard because almost immediately several ellyn appeared and offered their hands to Eleniel simultaneously. She blushed and giggled and accepted the nearest one to her. The ones that were left then offered to take Penny for a spin round the glade, but Penny refused after hearing the speed of the tune, let alone seeing the kind of complex steps and turns involved.

A little later in the evening, she finally managed to meet Rúmil, though it was not quite the encounter she might have expected or wanted. He was really quite tipsy at that point and had interrupted Rhimlath as he passed by on some point of information Rhimlath was busy pontificating about. Rhimlath seemed irritated at first and then outraged when everyone agreed Rúmil had a point. It would seem Rhimlath, for all his gentleness, felt his intellectual bookishness was his pride and joy and did not take correction easily. He conceded the point but glared daggers at Rúmil for a good few minutes afterwards.

Penny felt quite sorry for him. Rúmil had not been tactful, but then he had had one too many, so it was hardly surprising. She would have offered to give Rhimlath a dance to take his mind off it except she felt in no position to do so and also felt Rhimlath's feet would not have recovered sufficiently from the last time.

The conversation turned. Celebdor suddenly asked Penny if she had recovered from her 'alarming experience'. Penny blinked and then realised Rhimlath and Lindir had been busy 'not keeping their mouths shut' about her vertigo attack.

She was busily explaining that it was nothing, really, and she was determined to crack it next time and get up to a talan even if it killed her when Rúmil interrupted her suddenly by declaring he wanted a dance. He looked around to see no elleth near him except Mireth who had Celebdor by the hand. He turned back to Penny.

'Oh, no…!' Penny felt her stomach drop.

Before she knew what was happening, Penny found Rúmil practically dragging her onto the floor. She noted Lindir, rather than backing up her protests, was telling Rúmil that this was a very good idea and she needed to learn a few more steps. He had a huge grin on his face. She decided she would have to get him back for that at some point.

"Mind out for your toes though, Rúmil," Lindir shouted at him as they disappeared into the throng.

Penny could have happily throttled him.

The pace was fast, the steps insanely complicated and Penny gave up trying almost instantly. Rúmil was drunk enough to have energy for the both of them, though, and steamed about the dance area more or less carrying her through the entire thing. He seemed determined to treat her as if she was actually as tall as an elleth, thus holding her round the waist half the time with a grip strong enough to ensure her feet dangled a good few inches off the floor.

After a while, she had got the hang of the basic moves and managed to do those without the fancy footwork or too many twirls. She almost began to enjoy herself. Rúmil was grinning and nodding as if encouraging her and that helped increase her confidence. It was boosted further when he refused to let her sit down after the tune had ended and insisted she dance a further two turns with him.

At the end of it all she was ready to collapse.

Rúmil picked her up, carried her to the edge to where Eleniel and Mireth were seated, both clearly highly entertained by this performance, and unceremoniously plonked her on a pile of cushions next to them.

"Wait there and I will get us a drink." So saying, he disappeared once more.

Penny struggled to get her breath back. She glanced at the two ellith who dissolved into laughter.

"What is it with ellyn not realising I do not wish to dance?" Penny exclaimed, bewildered.

"Ah, but we all enjoy dancing. There is not anyone who does not enjoy it."

"Indeed, it is as Eleniel says. I think also they wish to help you learn a little."

"Any opportunity to show off their skills, whether as a dancer or tutor."

"Ah, I see. I think the latter is probably more to do with it," Penny muttered.

Mireth laughed. "I think you are right. Especially where Rúmil is concerned, I suspect."

Rúmil brought back drinks for all four of them. He had barely handed out the wine before he had downed his and was asking Eleniel for a turn. Eleniel hesitated but, just like Penny before her, got little chance to refuse since Rúmil was already bending down to grasp her hand and pull her to her feet.

"Er…" was all Eleniel managed as she glanced back over her shoulder at Mireth and Penny.

They merely smirked, laughed and waved her farewell by way of response.

Penny and Mireth's giggling was interrupted by a serious voice asking if Penny would forgive Rúmil his boisterousness.

"But of course, Lord Orophin. I was flattered, truth be told."

"Ah, well, that is good of you, Lady Pen-ii. Even so…"

Orophin glanced behind him a little anxiously to where his brother was busy bouncing Eleniel round the glade. Eleniel was enjoying it, but there was a faint look of alarm to her eyes, as if she feared he may let go any second and she would be sent flying into the crowd.

In the end Haldir and Orophin had to practically sit on Rúmil at the request of various ellith (and their respective husbands, fiancés, brothers or fathers) since he was getting a tad over-exuberant. Not only that but he had been spotted making a beeline for Galadriel. Lord Celeborn would not have been amused.

Thus, when Penny finally admitted defeat and was found falling asleep in the corner of an awning in the early hours while around her the feasting showed no sign of slowing down anytime soon, Rúmil was packed off to show her the way back to the glade where they were camped. This ensured that not only would she not get lost but also that he would get some air, burn off some energy and stop harassing people for a dance for a little while. It was also hoped it might give him time to sober up a little bit.

Rúmil did not seem at all bothered at being dumped with taking Penny back. However, he was also too inebriated to make any pretence at being at all interested in her either. Penny did feel he could have made more of an effort but was too tired to care. She tried starting up a conversation a few times but got little more than one word answers in response or else he would go off into tangents such as how the moon a beautiful shade of blue this evening. He also had a tendency to slip into Silvan which did not help matters.

The most animated he got was when she mentioned how Rhimlath had been showing her round earlier that day.

"What in Arda did you let him do that for?"

"Well, he offered and I was interested."

"Rhimlath could bore the leg off a troll."

"He was very courteous."

"Never suggested he was not."

There was not much more to be said after that.

When they got near to the clearing Penny recognised where she was. She insisted Rúmil return since she knew her way from here. He was suddenly serious. He shook his head.

"No, no, cannot do that. Haldir would have my head if he knew I had not escorted you to your door."

"Oh, well, to the clearing will be just fine, Lord Rúmil."

"No, he was very specific. Door. To the door." He leant out an arm casually to lean against a tree before he fell over. "What are you doing in Imladris anyway? You are not Dunadan, are you?"

"Er, no. No. I was lost and one of the Dunedain found me and-"

"Ah, yes, yes. Orophin said something about it all. Lindir told him. Lindir's a friend of yours, yes?"

"Yes." She looked at him. He showed no signs of moving anytime soon. "Shall we carry on?"

"Hmm? What? Oh, yes, of course!" He suddenly leapt to her side, his eyes slightly too bright and his smile a little too wide. "To your door, indeed!"

They were there soon enough. He did indeed walk her right up to the entrance to her tent, leaving her with a bow and wishing her a very good night. He was being very gracious.

"Thank you, Lord Rúmil. You have been most kind. Go back and have a few more dances." She grinned. "Or even a bit more to drink."

"No, no. I will never hear the end of it if I get any more drunk. My wife would kill me."

He turned on his heel and wandered off into the dark, though dawn was breaking, turning the night into mere shadows already. He whistled a tune to himself, leaving a somewhat stunned Penny behind him.

Married? He was _married_?

She blinked for a moment before collapsing into hysterics at the thought of Mary-Sues committing hara-kiri at the very idea.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Yes, I know JRRT was considering making Celeborn one of the Teleri see Unfinished Tales, but I prefer the version where he's Sindarin and a kin of Thingol. Sue me. ;P

Also, before anyone lynches me over marrying Rumil off – remember that LACE makes it clear most elves were usually married while still relatively 'young' (in elvish terms), so it is more than likely that many of our erstwhile heroes are, indeed, married. Besides which you should consider yourselves lucky – I was considering having him or one of his brothers killed in the attack on Dol Guldur… but I knew I really WOULD be lynched if I did that. /snerks and ducks the rotten tomatoes/


	15. Let's Call The Whole Thing Off

**Chapter 15 **– _Let's Call The Whole Thing Off_

The week in Lothlorien passed both slowly and all too quickly at the same time. It was faintly surreal, Penny decided later, but then that was nothing new. Surreal seemed to make up her entire existence these days.

She was able to relax far more than she had in a long time, though, and slowly grew to understand the wisdom in Galadriel and Celeborn's actions. With all of Lothlorien to wander in she was able to talk freely with Lindir, as well as Erestor and Glorfindel on occasion. Arwen and Elrond were rarely seen except in company, given they were so busy with friends and family.

She talked of her life and answered Lindir's questions as best she could. There were limits to what she would discuss, and Lindir was wary of making her feel too homesick, but he was brought up to speed with much that Erestor and the others had heard or guessed before now. She spoke at length of things musical, at his insistence and increasing fascination. She did her best to try and describe the different varieties, some of the instruments and snatches of tunes of various things – popular and classical, operatic and musical. She knew very well she was not doing any of it any justice, but Lindir did not grow tired or bored of anything she told him in this regard. He was vaguely frustrated that she could only remember snatches of tunes from what she described as long pieces involving many instruments, but Penny was no classical musician nor had ever had much interest in it. She apologised profusely, and did the best she could.

She also made it up into the canopy as she had hoped.

But only late in the week…

And at the fourth attempt…

And only after being plied with several cups of wine over lunch by Lindir, who was sick of hearing her bemoan the fact that she could not get up there.

Suffice it to say that, with alcohol and a lot of shoving and pulling involving a party of six of elves or so (thus ensuring she had no escape and lots of chatter to take her mind off it all), she got all the way up there at last. Once there she enjoyed it so much she did not want to come down again.

Rhimlath found her awe and entrancement endearing, if quaint, and even went so far as to show her round his own talan. She had stood in the doorway in reverent silence as if hardly daring to breathe.

Everyone else thought it amusing.

Well, all except Lindir, perhaps, who understood far better the deep significance attached to each such moment for Penny. Normally he would have been the first to pull her leg about it all, but he was actually very understanding and went out of his way to point things out to her, indeed force her over walkways (carried her, in fact, at one point, while she clung to him frozen in fear, head buried in his shoulder and too scared to even scream) since he knew she would kick herself later if she did not manage it all.

The week passed by in a flurry of inactivity. Long, slow walks, chatter and song with evenings filled with more chatter, more song, as well as plenty of wine and dancing thrown in.

Mireth and Penny went exploring nearly every day. Penny in fact persuaded Mireth to come with her on Rhimlath's continued guided tour. Celebdor then branded Penny (jokingly) a bad influence on his betrothed, since Mireth seemed to be genuinely looking forward to it and tried to rope him into joining them, thanks entirely to Penny's enthusiasm.

That same day after the feast also saw a minor crisis of logistics as Penny had to explain to Arwen, Eleniel and Mireth that she needed to know how to clean, and more particularly dry, her 'period cloths' with some degree of privacy. The lines behind the tents were discrete enough, but once they left Lothlorien, Penny would still have a few more days to go and was worried discretion would no longer be an option.

"Do not worry, Pen-ii. With this many in the company, there will be several separate smaller fires near tents as individuals make herbal teas or their own particular food. A fire for us, set apart from the rest, over which you can dry the cleaned cloths will not attract comment in the slightest."

Arwen was always so sane and kind.

It did mean, of course, Penny could not have a bath before they left. She had a good stand up wash, though, and made sure to wash her hair. Who knew when she would next have such luxury again? Minas Tirith possibly, but even that seemed to be doubtful. The day before they left she, Mireth and Eleniel went to a little hut at some distance from their encampment to stock up on soap and shampoo for the remainder of the journey.

"You will have to stop using soap to wash clothes, you know," Eleniel said to her. Penny looked far from convinced. "It is very wasteful and not necessary, but after we leave Lothlorien… well, I dread to think what soap they may have in mortal habitations. You may need to make your soap last a very long time."

"Do they even _have_ soap?"

"Of course they do, Mireth," Penny laughed. "Just not of the same quality."

"Or effectiveness," muttered Eleniel.

Rhimlath would be joining them on the journey south, as would a retinue of about thirty Galadhrim made up of several of the personal guard of Celeborn and Galadriel (forever dressed in their white and silver) or else close friends of Arwen and notables of Lothlorien. Haldir and his brothers were not among them, nor any of their wives. Penny had met all three of the ellyth during the course of the nightly impromptu dances, and found them all charming. Rumil's wife obviously had the patience of a saint, but also a light, trill laugh that showed she enjoyed the lighter side of life just as her husband did. They were clearly perfectly matched.

They set out early one morning through the gates of Caras Galadhon to the sound of singing filtering down through the tree branches above them. The song was met and matched by those in the wedding party and continued on for long after they had crossed the bridge and turned west along the encircling white path.

Penny was sorry to leave.

For most of the day they seemed to double back on themselves till they reached a ford in the river Celebrant and crossed it in early afternoon. They continued west for a little while and made camp near the edge of the trees. Then the next morning they started to slowly make their way southwards.

Each day passed much like the next. Their route took them through long low valleys, thickly wooded copses and out into meadows. The mountains, their constant partner, were always to their right. At times, after a few days and from higher ground in the clear early summer sun, you could see quite some distance. Far, far away to the south the pale blue line of the White Mountains stretched across their path. Far nearer and to their right was a dark patch of green that nestled up against the Misty Mountains as they swept slightly to the south-east…

Fangorn.

Penny wondered how close they would travel to it, given they would be passing by it if they went by the straightest route to Rohan.

As they travelled they made camp usually in or near trees and within distance of a brook or preferably a larger tributary that wound its way from the mountains eastwards towards the Anduin. Penny's tent had a few more ellith in it than before as old friends of Arwen joined them. Indeed, for as long as a separate fire was needed for Penny, a little gaggle of ellith joined her soon after the meal every night and spent an hour or two chatting and gossiping. Arwen had asked that a small awning be set up for them every night under which they would set a little fire under the pretext of wanting to make hot drinks and gossip.

Penny would sit quietly, enjoying the banter and tales. Many of the new additions told of when Arwen had stayed for long years in Lothlorien with them.

"No matter how they tried, none of the eligible young bachelors could woo her," one smiled. "They would ask her for every dance, bow and scrape, be at her beck and call but she would just thank them and smile and nothing more."

"Ah, but then Estel came along," another winked.

"Oh, indeed."

"You should have seen her that night after they got betrothed. I think she ran all the way from Cerin Amroth."

"I did not!" Arwen protested.

"Oh, you did! You could barely contain yourself!"

One adopted a very good impression of an over-excited Arwen. "Oh, he kissed me! He kissed me! He kissed me!" They fell about, Arwen laughing with them, even if her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

"He was very handsome," one admitted. "For a mortal."

Penny joined in instinctively with Arwen's cry of protest.

"He still is!" spluttered Arwen

"'For a mortal?'" Penny tried to look outraged.

They looked at each other and laughed.

"Well, I ask you!" Penny muttered.

"Indeed," Arwen agreed. "Mortal or no, it was love at first sight." She drifted off into memories with a sigh and a slightly glazed expression.

A Lothlorien elleth started giggling. She pointed at Arwen. "I recognise that face. That is exactly how she looked after coming back from Cerin Amroth that night."

More laughter.

In the end, the few days Penny had to deal with hand washing cloths in a bucket in her tent and then hanging them to dry over the fire were very enjoyable. If any of the ellyn guessed or saw the real reason for it all, they were far too discrete and polite to comment. Penny had no doubt that those on guard duty ranged about would have to have seen, but she had learnt to accept that there was a certain level at which, in this society and lifestyle, you could not be too shy about certain basic necessities and facts.

Let alone when camping.

Even so, there are some things in life it is hard to imagine even if you know they must occur – such as your parents snogging or the Pope in the bath. Thus seeing Galadriel disappear off in the direction of the latrine took some getting used to the first couple of times Penny spotted her. Similarly, knowing Celeborn was around did not make it any easier for Penny to get the image of naked ellyn bathing in a river out of her head every time that was arranged. Quite the opposite, frankly.

She was assured the water was warmer, so she did brave bathing once or twice. She felt horribly self-conscious but realised it was less bother for others if she joined them – no one having to hold up a sheet for her in the tent as she washed, for example – so she made the effort, much as she loathed it.

The Westron lessons, suspended for the duration of their stay in Lothlorien, started up again, much to Penny's despair. Worse, Rhimlath would now join in, which irritated Erestor nearly as much as it did Penny, since he would correct Erestor's pronunciation or grammar declensions.

"I do have to speak to mortals in this tongue on a regular basis," Erestor smiled through clenched teeth.

"Indeed, but you seem to have picked up quite a bit of the local dialect, Erestor. Penny will struggle to be understood if she uses such colloquialisms in Rohan, though perhaps they may understand her better in Gondor. I doubt it, though."

Penny tried to point out she would have difficulty being understood no matter _which _brand of Westron she learnt. She was all but ignored, though, since Erestor was already declaring that he knew for a fact that the last time Rhimlath had used Westron was with the Fellowship, and he had it on good authority they had not understood a word he said.

"Maura was convinced you were speaking some sort of strange Silvan patois."

Before Rhimlath could even begin to put his indignation into words, Erestor went on to point out that Rhimlath had 'barely used Westron in the last five hundred years at least, if not more' and 'with all possible respect' (by which you might understand Erestor was really very, very riled at this point) he 'clearly did not know what he was talking about.' At which point he banned Rhimlath from intervening further.

It was therefore understandable, perhaps, when Erestor positively exploded a few days later when he found Rhimlath trying to persuade Penny to repeat her lessons back to him late one evening so he could 'correct' any 'minor errors' that 'may have slipped Erestor's attention'.

Two scholarly ellyn bitching at each other was not a pretty sight to behold.

Lindir, of course, found the whole thing hilarious and was busily trying to persuade her to deliberately mis-say the few words she could remember so Erestor could blame Rhimlath, Rhimlath could blame Erestor, and Lindir could laugh himself sick at the pair of them.

Penny, trying not to get involved, though unable to avoid a lot of it (given it concerned her directly), refused.

Only to find out that Lindir had then deliberately taught her some incorrect phrases.

"No, no, NO, Pen-ii!" Erestor was losing his patience. "That is not it at all. I know you try hard not to listen to Rhimlath, but really I can not put up with much more of this."

"Why, what did I say?"

"Actually, Erestor, I believe her mispronunciation comes from the way you insist on over-exaggerating the vowels." Rhimlath, ever hovering in earshot, had jumped in.

Erestor spluttered incoherently for a moment. "Rhimlath! Do you mind?"

"Erestor, as your friend and fellow scholar I have to tell you that your teaching methods are-"

"My teaching methods are perfectly adequate, thank you very much!"

"'Adequate.' Quite."

"Right. That is _enough_! _Celeborn!_ Would you mind dealing with this _nuisance_!"

Celeborn seemed to have mysteriously lost his hearing temporarily as his stallion picked up speed a little and he trotted away to join Elrond (who was also keeping a healthy distance from it all).

"'Nuisance'! Who are you calling a 'nuisance'?" Rhimlath retorted hotly.

"When you have both quite finished," Penny interrupted. "You can then tell me what is actually wrong with the phrase Lindir taught me."

Rhimlath and Erestor each raised an eyebrow as they looked at each other, then at Penny, then back at each other.

"LINDIR!" they roared in unison.

Penny gave up any hope of learning any Westron at all before Gondor, let alone Rohan.

She also gave Lindir 'what for' the moment she managed to grab hold of him. Mireth and Eleniel joined in.

"I am finding this hard enough without you deliberately teaching me something incorrect!" she fumed.

"I know, and I apologise," he muttered, somewhat shamefaced. "It was too good an opportunity, though, and it was only that one word. Look at it this way: after all that fuss there is no way you are going to forget it in a hurry."

"Yes, and the word 'she-goat' is _so_ useful to me, Lindir," Penny retorted, scathingly.

"You never know."

Penny glared at him.

Things got so out of hand that Elrond felt forced to have a quiet word with both Erestor and Rhimlath and ask them if they would prefer he took over Penny's tuition. The pair, thin-smiling and united for once, thanked him profusely and over-politely while reassuring him they could resolve their differences.

In the end Penny took her own measures of simply boycotting Westron lessons. Erestor understood completely and blamed Rhimlath entirely. Penny's friends took it upon themselves to test her every now and then on basic phrases and words, most of which she had difficulty retaining for any length of time, and it seemed that would be it in terms of her Westron learning for the time being.

After three days of travelling the separate fire was no longer necessary and Penny and the others mingled amongst the company after supper of an evening. The pattern was much as it had been on the western side of the Misty Mountains with the nights filled with tales and songs while others chatted quietly on the edges of the gathering. Of course now Penny had the added bonus of listening to tales from the Galadhrim. Many told or sung of deeds by which Elrond and Glorfindel had become renowned. One ellon sung most movingly of the deaths of Gil-galad and then Celebrimbor, at the end of which many were in tears, Penny included.

More than once, as had happened on occasion in Lothlorien also, Lindir was expressly called upon by Celeborn or Galadriel to sing or recite something he himself had written.

"You are honoured indeed to have one such as Lindir amongst your friends," a quiet voice said to Penny in the midst of one of these recitals.

"Indeed, Lord Celeborn. I did not realise at first, perhaps, the high regard in which he was held. It is entirely of Lord Elrond's doing: it was he who insisted Lindir teach me how to ride. We have since discovered a common sense of humour and our friendship has grown from that."

"Ah, yes. In some respects Lindir is ever the elfling, despite his age."

'Isn't that true of all elves?' Penny thought to herself, with a snigger. They all had their moments, especially after one too many cups of wine.

"Oh, very possibly, Lady Pen-ii." Galadriel leaned forward to glance at Penny across her husband.

Penny blinked. She could not get used to that.

"Would you recite something from the times of Doriath?" she asked Celeborn, trying to change the subject.

"Well, I am not sure that-"

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Mireth had overheard and was beaming. "I for one would most certainly wish to hear it. As would many here, I am sure."

The murmurs spread to all nearby, and Celeborn agreed, albeit a little hesitantly. After Lindir had finished and been congratulated by all, Celeborn stood where he was, cleared his throat and adjusted his tunic.

"It would appear some might appreciate something from the Ancient Tales."

A ripple of delight ran through the crowd and an expectant hush fell filled only with the occasional crackle from the fire.

And so Celeborn, clearly not nearly as reluctant about doing this as he had at first appeared, launched into a lengthy piece of epic poetry that, it transpired, he had written himself.

Some of the phrases in it Penny could not fathom and she guessed were a slightly older usage of Sindarin than she had met up till now, but she understood more than enough to sit as enthralled as everyone else around her. Doriath was immediately brought to life: before her mind's eye stood Thingol and Melian, Beleg and Mablung (though this was probably helped by her having already seen their images on frescos and wall hangings in Imladris, as well as in the carefully painted history books in Elrond's library). He told of Nargothrond's beauty, of the heroic battles with orcs on its borders, even a little of the love of Beren and Luthien. When he described Luthien's fairness he stopped, stepped over to his granddaughter and bent to kiss her brow. It was true: Arwen was very much Luthien's image.

Then came its fall and, at the mention of dwarf attacks and kinslaying, the silent stillness amongst the listeners seemed to deepen. Penny glanced at Elrond, as if to gauge his reaction, nor was she the only one. He sat watching his father-in-law impassively listening, but at the mention of Maglor he bowed his head slightly as if suddenly lost in his own thoughts.

Celeborn, in telling of the tales of battles or defence of the realm, even if he spoke of others such as Beleg or Mablung, invariably used the first person plural: "We beat them back… We drew our blades… Our bows moved faster than lightning…" He became energised, animated, as if reliving it all. Penny suddenly saw him in a different light: no longer the tall, imposing, yet kindly and wise Lord of Lothlorien, but a younger, powerful warrior instilling terror into the hearts of any orc stupid enough to face the wrath of his blade.

It was quite a performance.

Of course, not to be outdone, this started a trend for the next few days, and Penny was treated to the almost amusing spectacle of Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel and Celeborn trying to 'outdo' each other in tales of daring and courage, splendour and historical moments they had been involved in at one time or another. It was clear Penny was not the only one to see this for what it was – namely, competitive (if tongue-in-cheek and friendly) boasting and posturing. The ellith in particular seemed to find it amusing. Penny would seat herself near Arwen, and always beside Mireth or Eleniel, with all of them and any other ellith near them sharing slight smirks and rolling eyes. Penny even caught Galadriel doing it once or twice.

Not that the tales were not truthful, fascinating and enthralling to listen to or, if sung, then done so with beautiful voices to an equally beautiful tune.

But that was hardly the point.

Within just under a week of travel they had crossed the Limlight and reached the northern edge of Fangorn. It loomed in the distance to their right, dark and slightly foreboding to Penny's mind, as it hugged the foothills of the mountains. At first they did not move near it but as the days passed Penny did not know if it was because their path was moving west, or simply because the mountains (and thus Fangorn) slowly inched towards the east, but slowly the forest moved closer to them.

Towards the end of the second week, the forest was clearly visible: the gnarled and thickened trunks on its edges, the branches reaching out towards them, covered in summer's greenery. All during the day, they seemed to be heading straight towards it, or so it appeared, since every time Penny glanced up to her right it seemed to be nearer than it had been an hour or two before. Yet no matter how close they got, you could not see further than the first row of trees. Anything beyond that was lost in darkness.

Penny remembered Celeborn's warning to the Fellowship, and wondered if any attempt would be made by the elves to enter into the depths. She was not sure she wanted to follow, if they did.

"It is an ancient place, as you well know, Pen-ii. Ancient even to the Eldar, which tells you much."

"Yes, I realise that, Erestor. Will we be going into it?"

Erestor seemed surprised by the question.

"Our path lies directly to the south. You know that."

"You did not answer my question."

"I do not know what plans Lady Galadriel may have, Pen-ii."

Ah, so the ellyn clearly did not think it was a good idea to go waking up huorns and ents but the Lady of the Wood had other ideas? Was that it?

Time would tell.

That night, indeed, they camped within an easy march of the forest's edge. Invariably tales turned to it and other ancient forests now long disappeared. Stories of huorns, black-hearted trees and other horrors were told and to the elves this was simply the way of things – they felt no fear, only wonder, interest or mild disgust. For Penny, though, it was the equivalent of telling ghost stories round the campfire. Normally she would have dismissed such things with a scornful laugh, but now she knew that such things existed – just as orcs and elves, trolls and giant spiders all existed – and could not be ignored so easily.

After the third story of a group of edain supposedly never being seen again and nothing being found other than a few crushed, blanched bones many years later, Penny had had enough and took herself to bed. There she slept fitfully and had at least one nightmare till Eleniel came to sit beside her, stroke her brow and sing quietly to her to soothe her dreams.

The following day brought them to within a few yards of the eaves of the forest. After the previous night's stories, Penny's mind was in overdrive. She kept glancing to her right nervously, as if half imagining a tree to take a lunge at her at any moment. She made sure she was on the far left of the company, so there was the relative safety of elves and horses between her and any huorn with malicious intent.

The songs that day were of forests and trees, of nature and the elves' love for it and affinity with it. The branches above them seemed to sway with the breeze… until Penny realised there was no breeze… at which point she tried not to think about it.

Late in the afternoon, earlier than usual, they set up camp. No fire was set and only cold meats and cheese with flattened bread was the early supper while it was still light. Many wandered up to the lines of trees, letting their hands trail on the bark, looking up into the branches, even disappearing briefly into the gloom, but not going far. Penny noted it was mainly the Silvan and Sindarin elves that seemed the most enthusiastic. Most of those with Noldor blood were more reserved, though still behaving in much the same way. All were treating the place with a great respect and reverence, though.

Galadriel was standing a little apart from the rest, staring intently into the depths. Elrond was with her, as well as Celeborn. A small crowd was nearby including Glorfindel and Arwen. There was an expectant air about them.

"Lindir? What is-?"

Lindir held his finger to his lips. Penny, looking round, suddenly realised everyone had stopped moving, many seemed to be listening intently, though she could hear nothing. She turned to Eleniel beside her.

"Eleniel?"

"Do you not hear it?"

"No… What am I meant to-?"

And then she did hear it: a strange rustling sound from deep within the forest accompanied by a low, rumbling boom. As it got louder and closer, the only thing that stopped Penny running in the other direction was the fact that everyone else around her seemed perfectly alright with this, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

Then it stopped.

As it did so, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond and the group with them stepped forward into the trees. Penny noticed that Galadriel seemed the least hesitant of them all.

After some time Erestor reappeared, a smile of relief replacing the serious wariness he had worn before, and silently beckoned those as wished to follow. Penny was practically pushed ahead of Eleniel, and Mireth had her by the arm as they headed into the darkness. The trees were old and gnarled, and just as the hobbits had later described it, the place was filled with a musty oldness that meant that even someone as unaware as Penny knew she was somewhere very weird indeed. Lichens covered everything and hung in swathes from boughs and branches. Penny had the distinct impression she was being watched… and not by the elves around her, either.

Ahead she could see Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Glorfindel, Arwen and others in a group in a slight clearing (i.e. a marginally bigger gap between the trees than elsewhere). A rather tall, gangly larch seemed to be plonked right in front of them. Then, as slowly elves appeared around the clearing from all sides, many staying well back in the shadows, the larch moved the upper part of itself slightly.

"Hroom-room-room, ah, so there you all are!" it rumbled, slowly and carefully in Sindarin. "It is a pleasure indeed to have the elves in Fangorn once more after so long. You are all most welcome."

Penny decided then and there she had a phobia of ents.

Her brain was imploding just looking at it. It was a tree and yet it was not. It was talking, and yet it was more like quiet thunder in her head. It was the oddest thing in the world she had every laid eyes on, and given the kind of things she had run up against in the last six months, that was really saying something.

She grabbed hold of Lindir's elbow and half hid behind him.

"You are perfectly safe, Pen-ii," he whispered.

"I know."

She did not come out from behind him, though, nor release the vice-like grip on his elbow.

If the ent noticed a human amongst the faces ranged around him he did not remark on it. Whatever parley or greetings being held between him and Galadriel, Celeborn and the rest, they were still ongoing. As the ent's attention focused back on the powerful elves stood in front of him, slowly the rest slipped away either into the forest for a time or back to camp. Lindir walked for a while, Penny beside him still with a firm grip on his arm, looking about him in wonder. Looking at him, Penny realised he looked different, somehow, as if the weight of years had been lifted from him, not that she had ever really noticed the weight of years _on_ him, if truth be told.

Yes, this place was old even by elvish standards which meant everyone, probably even Celeborn, felt young here. The only exception might have been Galadriel, but even she would have felt a lot younger than usual, Penny suspected. Even Rhimlath was speechless, which was a feat in itself and as was commented upon later.

"Fangorn is to be thanked for small mercies," Erestor muttered later to Penny. Penny could not help but snigger. Poor Rhimlath.

Penny knew many did not rest that night but wandered in the margins of the forest, feeling like elflings once more and enjoying the sensation. They kept a healthy respect for it all, though, and many were wary to stray too far or alone. Elves were the friends of trees, but it had been too long since contact between the two had occurred – just as Celeborn had warned against Fangorn to the Fellowship, so Treebeard had thought ill of Lothlorien. Too long apart, there was no time to reforge the relationships now. Still it was a pleasant interlude for those travelling, a wonder and a novelty… even if the place gave Penny the creeps.

For two more days they travelled almost under the eaves of Fangorn, never venturing within its borders but letting their presence be known. In return, there emanated that watchfulness that Penny had sensed before from within the darkness beyond the trees, and the swaying of branches in time to the songs sung all made it seem as if the forest, in some way, travelled with them and wished them well.

It was all deeply bizarre.

Away to the west the land of The Wold grew steadily flatter and the lush grass taller and greener the further south they travelled. Then, as the edge of the forest turned east, they crossed the Entwash and finally left Fangorn behind them.

The White Mountains were clearly visible ahead of them now, and the flattened grassy plains between them left them in no doubt that they were in the realm of Rohan. In the distance from higher ground the Emyn Muin could be made out in the west. Penny could not see beyond them, could not catch her first glimpse of the Anduin or the blighted, grey lands beyond.

As she gazed towards the line of hills, she wondered if they were level with Amon Hen yet or perhaps already even slightly south of it. At this distance it was probably impossible to tell, she decided. So Penny said nothing, turned her mare and silently joined the rest of the company as they headed on towards Edoras.

* * *

Author's Notes:

1. Maura, you will remember, is 'Frodo's real name in his native version of Westron.

2. I was not going to include a visit to Fangorn until I realised they would have to walk past it, and for quite some time, on a direct route from Lothlorien to Edoras, hence its last minute inclusion in this chapter. Things were a little frosty and wary between Treebeard and Celeborn as is well documented: Celeborn warned the Fellowship against going into Fangorn, and Treebeard told the hobbits Lothlorien was a dangerous place. Nimrodel felt threatened, it was said, when she tried to enter the forest, and in UT it says Treebeard and Celeborn came to a sort of agreement that no ent or elf would be harmed in either's realm, but in truth few if any ever came each others way. Hence the hesitancy and wariness of all involved in this chapter.

3. Apologies for the run of Aistaire songs as titles – seem to be channelling old Fred at the moment.

4. As ever, many thanks to all who take the time to review and comment. hugs you all For those of you inspired to read the books: wahay and go you, and I hope you enjoy them! For those of you desperate to know what happens to Penny: patience, patience – time will tell all. ;)


	16. Rohan Ho!

**Chapter 16 **–_ Rohan Ho!_

When Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf had travelled across the floodplains of the Entwash several months before, they had found it all but deserted. In a desperate bid to protect his people from the increasingly frequent and more daring attacks by orcs (from east, west and north), Theoden had insisted they retreat to Edoras, Helm's Deep or at least the valley behind Edoras.

Now that the War was over, the tiny hamlets and farmsteads were occupied once more. On the occasion that they saw a distant hovel or home, smoke could often be seen from a chimney. The sounds of the odd lowing cow or neighing horse became increasingly common the further into Rohan they went.

They did not cross through any village or even pass too close by to the few they saw. Even so their progress did not go unnoticed.

The afternoon after they left Fangorn behind them, they surprised a group of children fishing in a stream. The children stood, speechless and staring, as the elves slowly passed by. A tiny, snotty-nosed toddler waved and grinned, though, and many of the Eldar returned his greeting, but the two older children, both fair-headed boys, grabbed the tiny child's hand and headed off at a run towards a distant group of huts.

The company was so large that by the time one child returned with a nervous looking woman and several adult males, the last few elves were still passing the spot where the children had been first encountered by those at the front of the procession. The humans kept their distance and were wary, yet not afraid so much as in awe at the spectacle.

It was Penny's first inkling into the reaction they might receive both in Rohan and in Gondor. Though she had not until that moment really realised it, she had got used to elves and how they looked and came across. Of course, she still had times when the sheer beauty and wonder of them was a bit much, but nothing like it used to be when she had first arrived in Imladris. She remembered how blown away she had been when she had first laid eyes on Elladan, how extraordinary and fabulous he had seemed, and how that fact alone had convinced her for the first time that she could not be hallucinating it all.

She realised that seeing a few hundred elves all together like this, and among them the most powerful and beautiful in all Middle-earth, must be utterly mind-blowing for those who had never seen elves before. Even for those who had fought alongside Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas, this would still be something jaw-dropping in its splendour.

It was nearly two and a half weeks since they had set out from Lothlorien. As they journeyed on, the dark line of the Emyn Muil forever to their left and the grass in tall swathes about them (so tall in fact that Penny stuck to riding most of the time), the ground grew flat and wide. The Misty Mountains slowly petered out till at last Penny was able to see the Gap of Rohan.

She stared at it for quite some time, when Glorfindel pointed it out to her, as if willing Orthanc to appear out of the distant horizon.

"It seems strange to think of all that has happened there only recently. Is that not so, Pen-ii?"

Glorfindel seemed to be talking as much to himself as to her, barely seeming to notice her murmur of agreement.

Summer was also well and truly in full swing this much further south, and it all showed. The grass was tall, and the plains and meadows were filled with flowers everywhere they looked. Many trees were in blossom, and bushes bore the swelling beginnings of fruit. Slowly they picked their way past brooks edged with weeping willows and wound through reedy bogs; they spread themselves broad as they wandered through pastures and green swathes of grassland; individuals stopped on occasion to wave at children in the distance or smell the summer meadow flowers that grew everywhere.

Then at last after a few days, the White Mountains loomed large before them, their peaks capped with snow even at this time of year, given their height.

As the train headed over a slight swell and down into a hollow, each pointed out to those behind them the line of mountain peaks ahead. Penny peered as best she could but could only just make out a valley and nothing more. Keen elvish eyes could clearly make out something else in the valley, though, and Penny knew what it was even before she was told: a hill and, at its height, a golden roof glinting in the summer sun.

Not only that, but all the elves saw a group of riders heading towards them from its direction.

"Can you not see them?" Rhimlath was astonished. "I forget how lacking in some skills you mortals can be."

Penny glared at him.

Travel was beginning to get to Penny. She was footsore and saddle-sore most of the time these days – even the balm Mireth had given her was not working as well as it used to. Her temper was getting increasingly shorter.

Rhimlath was in danger of getting an earful any day now.

"The Rohirrim are indeed as tall and fair as I have been told," Lindir quickly cut in. "They are easily as tall as the Dunedain… or most Dunedain at least."

Ah, yes. Penny had forgotten that. She was not a shortarse, it was true, but compared to six foot Dunedain… Still the Rohirrim had to be shorter than most elves, which would save her getting a crick in the neck half the time like she did if she spoke to someone like Glorfindel or Celeborn. 'Must drive the hobbits do-lally having to converse with people twice their size,' she thought.

Within a few hours, as the company had stopped to eat, the riders were nearing steadily and at last were visible even to Penny. It was an small group of twenty or so helmed riders carrying shields and spears. Two dark-haired riders were leading them, both riding without bridle or saddles.

Their imminent arrival was eagerly awaited and most ate quickly, packing their things away to then stand, hands shielding their eyes as they watched the riders get closer. Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel stood forward a little, as a sort of impromptu official welcoming party. Arwen, Erestor, Glorfindel and the leading advisors of Lothlorien stood just behind them.

As soon as they came within earshot, Elladan and Elrohir, matching mithril head circlets holding gems shining on their brows and grinning from ear to ear, waved and shouted a greeting. Within minutes they had drawn near, slowed their steeds and leapt to the ground to warmly embrace their sister, father and grandparents.

The Rohirrim hung back a little. Though they were no doubt used to Elrond's sons, they were still a little overwhelmed at the sight of so many elves together, just as Penny had guessed they would be.

Two, with dark horse's manes trailing down from the back of their helms, urged their stallions forward towards Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel. The slightly taller of the two spoke, introducing himself and his companion as the Second and Third Marshalls of the Mark respectively.

Penny did not understand a word and had to have a whispered translation from Mireth. She did not recognise the names he had used either, even though she knew this had to be Elfhelm or Erkenbrand who was speaking. She suddenly remembered Elrond's initial confusion when she had used 'Eomer', 'Theoden' or 'Eowyn' when she had told him all she knew just after Halbarad had left.

Oh, great. Just great. More bloody confusion lay ahead, it would seem. It had taken her long enough to get her head round the real names of the hobbits.

Whoever he was, he went on to say that the King bade them welcome and asked if they would all do him the honour of staying with him as his honoured guests so they could rest a while before continuing their journey. It was, he continued, a privilege for Rohan to be able to greet the future queen of Gondor and her kin, and pay her homage. Gondor and Rohan were ever bound in alliance. As the arms-brother of King Elessar so the King declared Gondor's queen-to-be was to be treated as his sister and one deserving of tribute. Further, all of Rohan was at the disposal of the kin of those who had so valiantly fought alongside the Rohirrim to defend their lands against the Enemy. Indeed elves were held in great esteem and honour now they had been seen to fight so fearlessly and well.

Elladan and Elrohir looked vaguely smug at that point, Penny noted.

So saying the man (who Penny had now worked out was Elfhelm after puzzling over Mireth's rough translation of 'Ellon-Headpiece' for a moment or two) dismounted, stepped towards Elrond and bowed low. It was obvious who Elrond was, even without being introduced. Not only had his sons greeted him warmly as only sons could treat a father, but the likeness between the three made it clear they were close kin.

Elrond inclined his head and then replied in similarly flowery terms, introducing himself by his full title and lineage. As he indicated Celeborn and Galadriel the Rohirrim stiffened in their saddles slightly, their eyes widening and trying not to gasp. The reputation of Lothlorien went before it (even if most of it was superstitious bunkum and despite the best efforts of Gandalf, Gimli, Aragorn and others to dispel such notions). Elrond thanked Elfhelm and accepted King Eomer's kind offer. Then he stepped forward and grasped Elfhelm by the forearm, smiling broadly.

"Any who are the friends of King Elessar and have helped defeat The Enemy with such noble valour as we have heard tell of your deeds, are friends of ours also."

Elfhelm, clearly surprised at the gesture, smiled in return and a cheer went up from the Rohirrim behind him.

Of course, it was all pure theatre, Penny thought to herself. She watched Elrond introduce the future queen of Gondor while Elfhelm bowed low and Erkenbrand dismounted to do the same. The stay in Rohan, if not pre-arranged, was only to be expected. They could not have travelled through it without calling on Eomer, given his deeds in the war and that three elves fought with his people. Equally Eomer could not have ignored them and not invited them to Edoras, especially not given Arwen's presence among them and the purpose for which they were travelling.

Still, it was an entertaining spectacle of public diplomacy, 'entente cordiale' and etiquette at work.

There was a slight hiatus while everything was readied after lunch before they could start off again. In the saddle, Penny took the opportunity to study the Rohirrim in detail. They were every bit as dashing as she had hoped.

They were tall and proud, their blond hair plaited to their shoulders. All were broad-shouldered and, especially compared to the lithe elves, built like brick shithouses, frankly. Several were bearded. Of course, they were in the full garb, as was appropriate given they were here as a royal welcoming party. Their mail shone bright and their spears and shields, emblazoned with the white horse of Rohan on a green background, looked terribly impressive.

Only on close observation might you have noticed that some of the shields were newly painted to cover the odd dent, hole or scratch. Were it not for the fact that much of their faces were covered by beard or helm, scars still a livid red might have been seen on the cheek of one or two as well.

Looking at them, Penny was very aware of how _human_ they were. She had got so used to elvish company that to be with humans again suddenly made the elves seem to stand out more than they had done in ages.

As they set off, with the Rohirrim leading the way, Erestor was heard to mutter to Rhimlath.

"See? Elrond speaks perfect Westron. There is no issue of 'northern dialect.' They understand him perfectly."

"It was never _Elrond_'s Westron that was under scrutiny, Erestor," Rhimlath retorted.

Just at that moment Glorfindel suddenly remembered that Erestor needed to advise him on something at the same time as Lindir decided to ask Rhimlath about an obscure piece of lore he apparently needed to settle for a song he was working on.

Thus, thankfully, peace was restored before it could all kick off again.

Word of their journey must have spread fast among those who lived in the valley beside the Entwash. They were not numerous by any means but enough that there had been several times already when people had come to stare or children run alongside them for half a mile or so. These well-wishers and oglers became ever more numerous as they neared Edoras, several of the children shouting out to any of the Rohirrim they recognised.

So far Penny had not been noticed.

It did not take too long, though, for one of the children to see that one amongst all the splendour looked desperately ordinary. In fact, compared to the elves around her, Penny stood out like a sore thumb, little did she know it. The child shouted something out to her, presumably in Rohirric because none of the elves reacted. One of the Rohirrim riding up ahead heard the cry, though, and turned towards the shout only to then look in the direction the child was pointing.

He spotted Penny and turned to say something to the man next to him. The second man, once he had also turned to see Penny and confirm what he had just been told, urged his horse forward to ride to the front of the eored to speak to Elfhelm. Elfhelm then peeled off from the company while Penny was pointed out to him. Elrohir, being the nearest, was then called for and as Elfhelm pointed directly at Penny, Elrohir smiled, laughed slightly and started chattering, no doubt explaining her away.

At this point, feeling very uncomfortable as the object of unwanted attention, Penny feigned ignorance, slid out of the saddle and out of view. She offered her place to Eleniel who was nearby. Only a minute or two later she neared Elfhelm, watching her as she walked past him. Elrohir, who was still beside him, called out to her.

"It is good to see you again, Pen-ii. Well met, indeed."

She stopped and replied in kind, ignoring Elfhelm's curious gaze. Elrohir nodded approvingly.

"Erestor's lessons have worked marvels, I see. You speak Sindarin very well now. Very well done, Pen-ii."

"Thank you, my lord." She hesitated saying his name in case she got it wrong. It was a while since she had seen either brother and they were very alike. For all she knew it could have been Elladan she was talking to, though something about his demeanour told her otherwise. "Erestor has been most patient and the others have helped."

"Ah, but Westron is beyond her, I fear," Lindir said, smiling as he stopped to join them.

He and Elrohir greeted each other warmly and then Elrohir introduced them both to Elfhelm. The conversation switched to Westron, naturally enough, at which point it became clear to Elfhelm that Penny did not understand a word he was saying to her.

He seemed confused.

"But the Dunedain and even the kûd-dûkan spoke a tongue very near our own."

Thus it was explained that Penny was a stranger, found lost and wandering and with no knowledge of their languages.

"Ah. I see." Elfhelm nodded slowly to himself for a moment or two.

"Come, we must head on," Elrohir said.

As the three males turned their horses and Penny made to join the throng once more, she caught Elfhelm's gaze. Suddenly, it seemed wary, she thought.

Or it could have been the shadow from his helmet, of course, and Penny just being paranoid.

"It would seem your presence among us is causing a little comment."

Erestor had this knack of sidling up beside her without her even realising it. Long centuries of being Elrond's 'eminence grise' she imagined. Actually, that was unfair, but even so it could be a little unnerving.

"Yes, so I noticed. He does not seem too happy about it."

"Well, you are a novelty. It was probably assumed you are a wife of one of the Dunedain, but even then why travel all this way, and why alone. You generate questions, Pen-ii. It is your gift." Erestor was smiling broadly, intending his comment to be a light-hearted one, a joke.

Penny was not so sure it was that funny, truth be told. She glanced ahead nervously, to see Elfhelm was still throwing the occasional puzzled glance in her direction even as he trotted forward with Elrohir to rejoin the Rohirrim.

Oh, great.

It had not really occurred to her what the reaction of the Rohirrim or Gondorians would be to her. She had been more concerned by the threat of being left behind in Gondor or else the lack of communication skills.

But now…

She sighed. She was back to being 'Freak Penny' again. Fan-bloody-tastic.

She was determined she was not going to let this spoil her growing excitement that she was about to see Edoras, though. She was probably imagining it, anyway. If the elves thought she was fine, if Elladan or Elrond and the rest could vouch for her, then the Rohirrim would not have a problem with her, right?

Right?

Even as she tried to convince herself, Erestor said something to her and pointed straight ahead. Penny had been so lost in her thoughts she had not really looked much beyond the grass or the horse's backside in front of her. Now that she finally did so she realised she could see it clear as day, and the sight was enough to put all other considerations out of her head.

"Oh… but it's wonderful!" she breathed.

Erestor tilted his head to one side as if musing whether 'wonderful' was quite the word he would have chosen. It was pretty enough, with the gold glinting off the roof of the Meduseld as it did in the afternoon sun. A little showy for his tastes, perhaps... He understood well enough, however, that it meant a lot to Penny.

She had a grin on her face like a Cheshire Cat. And it got broader the nearer they got.

For a while Edoras disappeared as they neared trees and then crossed over a well-used ford across the Entwash (probably the same one Gandalf and the others had used) but then it was back, high and proud, shining like a beacon against the mountain valley dark with lengthening shadows behind it.

It was stunning.

The palisade around the base of the hill was several feet tall, and even from some distance Penny could see figures on top of it, only their shoulders and heads visible where they were clearly standing on some kind of walkway or embankment behind. The closer they got, the greater the number of people appearing on the palisade pointing, cheering, hallooing, waving and generally making a great rumpus.

A crowd of people had already formed outside the gate and others were making their way towards them, past the barrows that housed the Rohirric kings of old. Many more that lived within the valley or nearby had come to witness this extraordinary sight. It was a 'once in a lifetime' experience after all – the kind of thing that the small children running alongside them would tell their great-great-grandchildren about if they lived that long.

The elves never once stopped singing as they approached (having started soon after they had set off).

Once they reached the base of the long, low slope leading up to the gates, they stopped while the horses were unloaded. Several ellyn, with the help of a few locals, started setting up tents and awnings. At the same time Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn and Arwen, along with a large group from both Lothlorien and Imladris, followed the Rohirrim on horseback towards Edoras.

Penny was hesitant, not sure which direction to go in. She was desperate to see the place, but presumed this was the diplomatic party in which she had no need to be involved. She seriously contemplating just tagging along anyway, especially given Lindir was going too, but decided to hold hard and wait to be invited.

She was not.

So she stayed put and helped set up camp instead.

Of course, the fact that Penny was the only one with a saddle had been noted by some who whispered to each other, nudging and pointing. It also became clear, after one or two of the humans milling about attempted to engage Penny in conversation even if they dared not speak to the elves just yet, that she spoke no Westron or only understood a few phrases.

"Not to talk I," was about the best she could manage, and even that was a struggle. She would shrug apologetically. She noticed that, after a little while, she was avoided or ignored (by the adults at least).

It was strange to see humans again. Strange in a nice way, though. Okay, she could only see them from a distance, since it was mainly the elves setting things up with the help of only a few individuals, but even so. There were kids running about nearby, but they would not come too near. If any elf stopped to say something to them they would go very quiet and shy, staring in awe at this tall, beautiful, near shining being bending over them.

Similarly as the party following the Rohirrim wound its way between the barrows of the kings and reached the gates, the shouting and whooping from the crowd both outside and up on the palisade quietened to a watchful awe. As Elfehelm and the rest, with Elrond and Celeborn close behind, rode through the gates, soldiers on either side blew on horns, the sound echoing through the valley and bouncing off the mountains around them.

Within an hour they were back, by which time dusk was beginning to fall. Most of the children brave enough to stick it out had finally got over their initial wariness of the elves and were now running in and out of the awnings and tent ropes laughing and playing chase. Many of the men were admiring the horses, none of whom would be stabled, but would remain as they were, as ever close to camp. Hay and water had been brought to them – indeed they had been treated with as much respect as the two-legged guests of the Rohirrim, but that was probably no surprise.

Once back from the Meduseld, Elladan went out of his way to find Penny since he had not had a chance to greet her with more than a nod and a smile in her direction before. Like his brother earlier, he showed pleasant surprise at the progress she had made in her language skills.

"Father tells me you have become quite at home in Imladris, that you have settled in well."

Penny nodded. She would be sorry to leave it and hoped she would not have to. She suddenly realised Elladan was looking at her with a serious expression on his face.

"My lord?"

He started, as if suddenly aware of what he was doing. "Forgive me, it's just…"

He glanced up at Elrohir who was chatting with Celebdor and a group of Galadhrim at a little distance to Elladan. Elrohir, catching his brother's look, furrowed his brows and crossed over to them.

"I have not had the opportunity to talk to Father in any length or detail about what you may have told him even before we left, let alone afterwards," Elladan continued. "But we always understood your knowledge was… detailed, shall we say."

Penny instinctively glanced around her, even though it was well known amongst the elves now that she had had some foresight in the War, so such talk did not have to be as discreet or secret as it had been before.

"It still seems astonishing to me that it should have been the case, yet you knew all that we have faced, did you not?"

Penny did not know how to answer him. She was a little thrown by his question.

"Yes… and no, Elladan. I did and yet could not even begin to imagine the horrors of battle…"

Elrohir was quietly listening beside his brother. The two exhanged a glance, as if sharing unspoken thoughts.

"Pen-ii?" Elrohir spoke slowly, his voice gentle and filled with compassion. "I know Aragorn sent word north, but I do not know if Father told you. If he did not, then forgive me for bearing sad news, but you should know that Halbarad-"

"I know," she cut in quickly. "I thank you, Elrohir. I know. I have known for some time."

There was a moment of awkward silence as Penny struggled to deal with the wave of emotion that hit her suddenly. Elrohir sighed sadly, shaking his head a little and murmuring he was sorry, but Elladan's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Penny's reaction.

"Even that?" he said quietly.

Penny stared at him for the barest of moments before her gaze fell. She felt her eyes were wet with tears. She nodded. "I told your father before you… I tried to stop…" She could not finish her sentence. "Excuse me," she muttered, turned and left them.

She did not cry. She had long and long ago grieved for him, but it was still upsetting to be reminded. Her throat was so tight it hurt her.

She wondered if they had seen it happen. She was half tempted to…

Then she decided it was best she did not know.

As she sat in the doorway to her tent watching as the last few things were readied, she glanced back towards the brothers and noticed they had been joined by two Rohirrim. One was a young man, not even her age but quite a few years younger and barely into adulthood. The older man she assumed to be his father. The two, clearly comrades-in-arms of Elladan and Elrohir, were being given the honour of being introduced to Elrond.

The older man beamed in pleasure at something Elrond said to him, but it was not him that Penny was looking at.

The young man had lost a leg just above the knee. He stood with a pair of rude looking crutches, the forks padded to provide some cushioning. In the gathering gloom Penny could not be sure, but there was something about his face that seemed strange as well. With the shadows it was difficult for her to see clearly, but it looked very much like there was a large, dark scar down one cheek.

Eventually Elrond took his leave of them and the young man said something to his father who nodded. They thanked the brothers, bade them farewell and turned to head off towards Edoras, the elder walking slowly so as not to rush too far ahead of the young man limping his way up the hill.

Mireth had come to sit beside her and seen what she was staring at.

"It is so very sad, is it not?"

Penny nodded, dumbly, too upset to speak.

"And yet, he is fortunate to be alive. Many with such a grievous injury do not live, or not among humans unless there is a skilled healer amongst them. I know our help will be needed here before we leave."

Penny looked at Mireth, wondering.

"Many are still sick with their wounds. Some may still lose limbs."

"After all this time?" Penny was astonished.

"Oh, indeed. Especially if the wound was badly or hastily treated, or has been neglected since. We will have some work tomorrow, I am sure. Elrond has already spoken to me and several others both from Imladris and Lothlorien who are skilled in healing."

The reality of war was hitting home to Penny the further south she travelled. Sauron had fallen and Saruman defeated, but at what cost?

Little did she know it, but to the west and east the ravages of raids in Rohan had been terrible. Homes and farms had been burnt to the ground, and men who had survived the battles had come home to find their livelihoods gone, or worse their women and children slaughtered. Entire swathes of the countryside between Orthanc and Helm's Deep had been utterly destroyed in the march of the Uruk-hai. Many widows suddenly found they had no farm, no man to provide for them, and had to throw themselves on the mercy of family or neighbours. Rohan was rich, but it would struggle and stretch itself thin to accommodate these newly dispossessed – distressed, grieving and utterly bereft in spite of the great victory that had been won.

As the youth disappeared slowly into the night and passed the first of the sixteen barrows – seven to the left and nine to the right - Penny noticed a circle of stones on the ground in front of the barrow nearest her on the left. Work had yet to start on it, but already the ground stood waiting and marked out to hold Theoden, King of the Riddermark, in a hill just like his fathers before him.

Much in Rohan was utterly changed and would never be the same again.

* * *

Author's Notes:

After the war Eomer changed the system of marshalls. Prior there had been no First Marshall for some while since Theoden had taken that role himself, the Second had been his son Theodred (and Elfhelm effectively filled the post afterwards, though he was never formally appointed), and the Third was Eomer. Eomer then made Elfhelm and Erkenbrand Marshalls of the West-mark and East-mark respectively. However, UT makes it clear this only happened after the burial of Theoden, hence Elfhelm and Erkenbrand are Second and Third Marshalls for the time being.

Tolkien used Old English for the names of people, places and things in Rohan. He did this to give the same impression that Rohirric would have had for Westron speakers since Rohirric was similar to a more ancient form of Westron (hence the similarity in terms between the native tongue of the Rohirrim and the hobbits). This means that 'Eomer', 'Meduseld', 'eored', 'Eowyn' (etc) are not the actual names but translations. It's the same as 'Frodo' is a translation of 'Maura', or 'Samwise' is a translation of 'Banazir'. The only trouble is, JRRT never gave us the original names for the Rohirric, other than literally one or two words and half-words, so don't ask me (for example) what Eomer's real name was, because I don't know and nor does anyone else, not even (I suspect) Christopher Tolkien, though he's probably the only person around who might. We know it would have been 'Lô-' or 'Loho-' something (as would have been 'Eowyn's name) since that corresponds to the OE 'Eo-' meaning 'horse'. With thanks to huinesoron and 'the Books bods of TWC' for their help over this issue.

_kûd-dûkan -_ 'hobbit' in Rohirric

With many thanks to surgicalsteel for her invaluable help and advice on wounds, injuries, healing times, and all things medical.


	17. My Kingdom For A Beer!

**Chapter 17 **- _My Kingdom For A Beer!_

Supper was to be provided in the Meduseld at the King's insistence. Penny noticed a slight strain to Erestor's look as he imparted this information on to her, Mireth and Celebdor.

"Anything amiss, Erestor?"

"No, no."

"Are you quite sure?"

"Indeed. Why would there be anything amiss? I am sure supper will be…" He searched for a word. "Delightful."

He did not look terribly convinced. Before they could question him further, he had disappeared off into the dark, leaving Mireth, Penny and Celebdor to share a worried glance. Were all their fears about to be realised?

'And then some.'

The first clearer indication of this was when Elrond and the others who had already been up to the Meduseld suggested that as many as possible 'might like to go on horseback.' Elladan and Elrohir (now the experts on all things Rohirric, of course) seemed particularly insistent about this.

"But I want to walk, Lindir. I want to savour every moment of this."

"Some things are best savoured from a distance, Pen-ii. Trust me on this."

Penny blinked. Ah. Like that, was it?

Of course, there were not enough horses for everyone, and eventually it was decided it was easier to not have to saddle Penny's mare yet again so she did end up walking along with many others.

Hoo, boy! And she had thought Bree was bad.

The stink of the place hit you nearly as soon as you entered the main gates of Edoras. The fact that the pig sties were just to the right of the entrance, with the brewery only a short distance to the left, only made matters worse. It was like walking into a Wall of Smell. Admittedly it did get progressively less stench-ridden the higher up the hill you went. However, this was only because Edoras was built in a wind tunnel; thus the stink was simply exchanged for a very brisk northerly breeze.

The place was ridden with horse-shit. Unsurprisingly, perhaps, but even so, there were limits, surely? Just how many bloody horses _were_ there in this place! How much horse poo could actually come out of a horse! Given she had been travelling with a fair number of the brutes for over a month already, Penny already thought she had seen more horse shit than it was ever possible to imagine. Obviously she was very wrong, it would now seem.

It was clear some vague attempt had been made to clear up some of it, presumably in advance of their arrival. Indeed, Elladan and Elrohir had let Eomer know it might be an idea to avoid offending elvish sensibilities too much by cleaning up a bit in the lower portions of Edoras. However, if this was the Rohirrim's idea of 'cleaning up,' Penny (and the others) were not at all sure they wanted to know what it had been like before.

There were piles of it in the road (admittedly fresh), piles of it next to houses, piles of it in barrows next to the gates waiting to be taken outside to be stored... Penny could not quite believe it.

"Fantastic manure," Celebdor explained. "They must have superb vegetables here."

"Indeed," agreed Penny, but feeling Celebdor was missing the point somewhat. As she pointed out to him, Imladris had a lot of horses, but still managed to function perfectly well without feeling the need to display their 'end product' quite so publicly.

The only vaguely gratifying thing about the slow walk up the hill was the amount of muffled protestation, waving of scented handkerchiefs (many having been forewarned and therefore forearmed) and general 'elvishness at its most horrified' going on around her. It would have been highly amusing… if Penny had not been so busy being revolted herself, of course.

If Halbarad had been able to see them all, he would have wet himself.

The grotty looking hovels at the base of the hill gradually gave way to larger huts higher up the hill. They were progressively less closely packed together, too, and thus conveniently allowed more of the northerly breeze to whip into your face every now and then. The elves were having trouble keeping their hair as neat as they liked.

The top of the hill was flattened and various buildings ranged around it, forming a sort of large courtyard. No sooner did they arrive but groups of young men and boys stepped forward to admire the horses and lead them off to be stabled temporarily.

At one end of the 'courtyard', raised higher still, was the Meduseld, with golden pillars and ornate carvings painted and gilded all over the doors, the steps, and the walls. It was a thing of beauty.

Or it was to Penny, at any rate.

Many of the elves barely gave it a second glance.

"Not bad," Rhimlath mused after Penny had enthused and bounced at him for a full two minutes over it. "Of course, you have to understand that the Rohirric culture is a very young one, Pen-ii. Their artistry is still a little crude, a little rough around the edges."

"I beg your pardon?" Penny felt a tad put out on their behalf. The whole thing was stunning as far as she was concerned.

"Well, it hardly has the delicacy and finesse of an elvish structure, as I am sure anyone would agree. The carvings are a little heavy, the colours garish, the artistic themes overblown…"

"In your opinion," Penny snapped.

"No need to get defensive," Rhimlath smiled. "I mean no offence. I realise they are fellow mortals, Pen-ii, but you have to admit that compared to elvish skill this… this…"

He waved his hand vaguely at the Meduseld as if trying to find the right description for it. Given his entire tone suggested he was toying between whether to call it 'a travesty', a 'pitiable example of human folly' or even a 'laughable attempt at high art,' Penny did not wait around to hear him finish the sentence.

There were guards on either side of the doors to the Meduseld as well as in pairs all the way up the stairs. The doors were open and a smell of roasting meat and smoke wafted down towards the crowd. A few Rohirrim were joining the visitors, mingling and introducing themselves or having themselves introduced by Elladan and Elrohir.

Penny's attention, however, was focused on the group at the top of the steps that had come out to greet them. She recognised Elfhelm and Erkenbrand immediately. They were standing on either side of a heavy-set, but very tall, blond man who could not have been more than five or six years older than she. He wore a crown and rich robes, which said much: for all the stench of the place, Rohan was rich indeed. Times may have been hard of late with the War, but its glory was far from faded.

She blinked as she took in the fact that she was looking at Eomer, King of the Riddermark. She had to stop herself from staring.

On the other side of Elfhelm was a woman, nearly as tall as Eomer, but slim where he was stocky. She was a beauty, it was true, but Penny had to admit she was not a patch on Arwen (but then there was probably no female alive who was a patch on Arwen except possibly Galadriel). She still made Penny feel desperately ordinary in comparison, though.

Eowyn bore a striking resemblance to her brother, or so it seemed from this little distance, anyway. Penny was somewhat taken aback at how young they both looked. Eowyn looked about her age and if anything it made her feat on the battlefield all the more remarkable to Penny's mind.

Horns sounded and Eomer spread his arms wide, shouting loudly into the wind that they were all most welcome and Rohan was blessed indeed to have such a people and such beauty walking within it.

That was very well said, and the elves murmured appreciatively. It very nearly flattered them enough to make up for the dreadful walk up the hill.

Eomer waited as Elrond and Celeborn led the way up the steps to join him, with Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Galadriel behind them. As they turned and entered the Meduseld together, horns sounded once more from inside, and a cheer indicated others were already waiting for them at the feast.

Immediately following Elrond and the rest came those that, in human terms, would be considered 'lords, lieutenants and advisors' (though in elvish society there was little distinction between one elf and another), then followed by everyone else. Elves may not indulge in formality and etiquette, but humans did, and it was a matter of respect for them to 'play along' and conform for a day or two.

Once inside and out of the wind, Penny was left breathless as she stood in the doorway for a moment and took it all in.

There was a huge fire in the middle of the hall over which various animals were being spit-roasted: several boar and something big enough to be a sheep, small cow or perhaps a deer (Penny wasn't entirely sure, and it actually turned out to be a goat). There was also a large cauldron to one end of it.

The entire place (and it was _huge_) was filled with tables and benches. Tapestries decorated the walls, ancient swords, spears and battle axes were nailed up next to the lit torches in their brackets, the great pillars holding up the ceiling were intricately carved and decorated with gold and paint, and all was as Penny knew it would be.

Well, perhaps not quite 'all.'

She was left just as breathless by the smoke, which stung her eyes a little till she got used to it. Not only that, but there was a stench of the great unwashed about the place from the amount of large, sweating men in unwashed jerkins already in the room. There was also the strong, sickly-sweet smell of beer with a heavy note of wet dog as an undertone to the whole thing.

Penny glanced around at those beside her and saw sensitive elvish noses were having a harder time with it all than she was.

The intricate inlay on the floor could not be seen since it had been covered by rushes. At first she was a little bemused by this, but later in the evening, after being witness to Rohirric table manners, she understood why. There were dogs and hounds of various descriptions running about (Saruman had been right in that respect, it would seem), and with rushes down at least the fleas, dog excrement and bits of half-chewed bone could be swept out easily enough the following morning.

"Nothing like a bit of seeing other people's cultures up close and personal," Penny muttered to herself, grimacing. "Oh, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

So saying, she stepped into the room with everyone else. Little did she realise it, but she was about to experience Rohirric partying at its very best.

The high nobles – both human and their elvish equivalent – were seated at a long table that ran across the room on a raised dais at the far end. Eomer sat in the middle on a highly ornate and gilded chair, Elrond and Arwen to his right and Celeborn and Galadriel to his left. Penny noted Arwen and Eowyn were sitting next to each other. She idly wondered how that would play out, whether Arwen knew or could guess Eowyn's brief attachment to Aragorn. All a moot point now, of course, since Faramir was in the picture, but even so.

Everyone else was left to seat themselves wherever they so chose at the tables that ran lengthwise down the hall, although the higher nobles took the ends nearest the high table. Lindir was already taking a seat with Rhimlath just opposite Elrohir and Elladan. Meanwhile serving wenches scurried about with roast pigs, trays piled high with bowls filled with whatever concoction was in the cauldron or huge jugs of beer. Penny stuck close to Mireth, Celebdor and Eleniel.

Once seated, Penny took time to take it all in. Eomer was not at all what she had expected. He continued the 'built like a rugby prop' genes that, looking round the room, it was clear most of the Rohirrim possessed. The men were, generally, tall and very manly, but HUGE. They probably would make damn good rugby players or American football players or Aussie rules football, or basically anything that involved being as big and heavy as possible and throwing your weight around a lot. They certainly drank enough beer to qualify; that was for damn sure, as Penny was to find out.

Things started loud and raucous, and only got worse.

The food was passable. Penny now found out she had been spoilt with elvish cooking. She could just make out Naurdir and his delightful wife sitting across the room from her, and his face as he tried the dumplings and stew was a picture.

Pig was clearly a favourite with the Rohirrim. There was a lot of it in various forms. Several roasted boars littered the tables, as did a couple of hams, and piles of sausages of varying sizes and types (cold, dried, sliced, covered in some sort of insipid grey sauce, and there were even quite a few in the stew).

The horse manure had been put to good use to provide vegetables, as Celebdor had suggested it would be. The trouble was that most of the vegetables seemed to involve brassicas of some description. There was more pickled cabbage on the tables than was surely reasonable, Penny decided. Pickled beetroot, pickled cucumber, pickled pigs trotters, pickled just-about-anything-the-women-of-Rohan-could-get-their-hands-on, so it would seem. It was only afterwards it occurred to Penny that the War would have destroyed a lot of crops and they were living on winter stores. Later Elrohir assured her, though, that pickling seemed to be a favourite pastime of the Rohirrim women.

"They showed us great honour, Pen-ii. Those were some of their provisions for the coming winter. Not wastefully, mind, but even so, they used up some of it."

Elladan corrected him by pointing out that the Rohirrim could (and did) happily eat pickled cabbage all year round, and they would have enough time to replenish stocks before winter set in. "I like pickled cabbage," he added. "But not every day."

There was, however, plenty of fresh fruit. Penny tucked into that with gusto. The Rohirrim also made a very good dark bread that, spread with butter, was also excellent and filling.

It was only after she was onto her third handful of cherries and second orange that Penny realised several of the elves near her, having seen the state of the fingernails of the serving women, were discreetly wiping and washing the fruit, the cups, the cutlery and anything else they may need to use. Some were not quite so discreet, of course (Elladan made no pretence whatsoever, nor did Rhimlath), but even so it seemed like a good idea, so Penny, a little belatedly perhaps, followed their example.

However, the tour de force of the evening was the beer. If nothing else, the Rohirrim knew how to make an excellent ale. The Dunedain, indeed, had been very impressed with the little they had managed to partake of it during their brief sojourn in Rohan and had declared it nearly as good as that which they got back home (high praise indeed). Aragorn had already requested for several kegs to be sent to Minas Tirith and had received them within two weeks of Eomer's return to Rohan. Several more were due to be sent with the wedding party as a gift. It was strong stuff, but good. Penny had not had beer since Bree (the elves not being terribly keen on the stuff) and took the opportunity to indulge. It almost made the food taste better.

Once everyone was settled and the feasting was well and truly underway, there were speeches. Eomer stood and spoke at length welcoming his guests, his talk punctuated by much cheering and raucous hallooing from the locals. Elrond spoke next, praising the Rohirrim for their famous bravery and deeds in war, the beauty of their countryside and their people (as he spoke a particularly haggard looking crone pottered across his line of view, but he was only being polite). When Celeborn rose to speak, a silence fell across the room. The Rohirrim knew who he was and where he was lord, and their awe was palpable. He spoke movingly and well of their past, showing great knowledge of their history.

"I remember well when your people first travelled past my borders on their way south," he pointed out. Comments like that endeared him to the Rohirrim, but also disconcerted them a little.

As he and Elrond spoke, Mireth had a hard time translating for Penny, and Eleniel had to fill in some of the gaps. Both ellyn were using an older version of Westron, one from which Rohirric was descended, and thus most in the Meduseld could follow a lot of what they were saying.

There were minstrels playing and singing while they ate, though they could barely be heard at times above the din of chatter, laughter and the occasional impromptu drinking song (the frequency, length and volume of which only increased the longer the evening wore on). On occasion the hall would fall silent for a particularly well known or moving ballad or piece of poetry. At one point Lindir was pushed forward and asked to sing something, which he did – a song of heroes in war and a soldier returning to his love. The Rohirrim were transfixed. You could have heard a pin drop (if it had not been for the rushes deadening the sound, of course). He was followed by one or two others from the elves, who were all met by a similarly enraptured reception.

After a while it was clear drinking was overtaking the eating, and some moved to clear a few tables both from the central portion of the hall and towards the end near the doors so as to allow space for dancing. Preparations were no sooner started than quickly stopped, however, as Eomer stood and called for silence. The royal minstrel and poet was called forth.

There were murmurs among the crowd wondering what was happening, but clearly one or two of the Rohirric nobles knew and were smiling and nodding in approval. The man stood just to the side of the high table where everyone could see him and then, clearing his voice, recited a long poem he had composed honouring the feats of Elladan and Elrohir on the battlefield.

"… Tall and terrible, twice twinned-Lords  
Sword blades shine-striking, foes fearless-slain  
Death-dancing doom-dealing, treading down the dead  
Arms-brothers, blood-earned, bold soldiers both…"

It was sonorous and moving, or so Penny assumed from the expressions on the faces of even the hardest Rohirric warriors there as they listened. Many were clearly lost in memories, and at least one woman was sobbing quietly by halfway through. Several men cast their gazes down or rubbed at still healing wounds or newly wrapped bandages.

Elladan and Elrohir were moved beyond words. They had not known about this at all. It had been something Eomer and the minstrel royal had cooked up between them for this very moment. Elrond could not help but beam in pride. The poem was in Rohirric, so much was incomprehensible, but it was clear the older elves understood quite a bit or could guess at the meaning since they could remember the ancient forms of Westron from which Rohirric was descended. Celeborn and Elrond were both listening intently, and on occasion Erestor would lean over and mutter something to Elladan by way of explanation.

Once the recitation was finished, the minstrel bowed low towards the brothers, and for a moment there was complete silence in the hall. Then, slowly, Eomer stood and then one by one the Rohirrim followed him, every one holding out their cups towards the twins.

At last everyone, including the elves, were on their feet and only then did Eomer speak.

"We drink to you, Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond, Lord of Imladris. Know you are arms-brothers of Lôgrad and shall always be welcome here."

"Elladan and Elrohir!" went up the shout from the hall, and everyone's cups and tankards were drained.

Only then could the rearranging of furniture resume, as everyone fell back to drinking hard and thoroughly enjoying themselves. The minstrels struck up more jaunty tunes, and dancing began in the middle of the hall (in a not particularly orderly fashion, it had to be said).

As the evening wore on, so the beer flowed. Tongues were loosened and the warm, smoky air leant itself to a convivial atmosphere. The Rohirrim began to feel more relaxed as they realised that the elves (or most of them at any rate) were much like Elladan and Elrohir and thus 'good eggs.' The men were wary of approaching the ellith, who contented themselves with dancing with husbands, betrotheds or friends, or else chatting away in small groups. The much fewer number of female Rohirrim at the feast kept themselves to themselves and seemed uncertain of approaching anyone – male or female – from the elves.

Such wariness did not stop the occasional young man from gazing in astonishment at an elleth every now and then (another thing that happened with more regularity and increasing boldness the more beer that was drunk). The older, married men would lean over and casually tap the underside of their chins to shut their mouths, muttering laughed comments of how unmanly it was to drool. Similarly every time a serving woman had to speak to an ellon she would invariably flush and go very quiet, suddenly too shy to speak, or else giggle uncontrollably.

'Nice to see I'm not the only one,' Penny thought, remembering the effect the ellyn had first had on her (and could still have on her if there were enough of them and she was not concentrating).

The elves were neatly divided in terms of how they, in their turn, reacted to the Rohirrim. The elves of Imladris were more used to humans and how they could be, but the Galadhrim were clearly a little bewildered by the boisterousness of it all. Depending on their character they either watched from a safe distance, bemusement and a faint hint of horror and superciliousness plastered all over their faces, or else, as they drank, warmed a little and tentatively engaged in conversation with some of the older and more sedate Rohirrim. Several made their excuses and left as soon as it was reasonably polite to do so, though.

For her part, Penny was content to stay where she was on a side table, armed with a tankard, a jug of beer and a bowl of apples and just watch it all with increasing fascination.

She did not remain that way for long.

There had been Rohirrim sitting near to them during the meal who had, obviously, immediately realised Penny was human. Of course, the inevitable attempt at conversation, confusion at her inability to speak much Westron and then explanations of who she was and why she was with the elves, meant she became an immediate object of fascination in her own right. Many avoided her, especially the women, but a few others were intrigued or (emboldened by drink) in the mood to be friendly, and sat with her talking to her (or, more accurately, _at_ her) amiably enough.

Mireth and Celebdor were attempting to join in with the dancing. Eleniel was deep in conversation with Arwen and Eowyn – both of whom seemed to be getting on like a house on fire. Lindir had come to sit next to Penny, bringing Elrohir with him. They inevitably attracted a group of Rohirrim, either because they were friends of Elrohir's or because they had learned Lindir was in charge of the stables of Imladris (and thus he was instantly considered a friend for life by any Rohirrim).

Penny sat as Lindir and Elrohir translated for her (when they remembered) stories of orc skirmishes, 'great horses we have known and loved,' battles, 'dreadful wounds I have suffered' (which included exposing various parts of the anatomy to show off scars) and things of a similar nature. As the evening progressed, and more alcohol was drunk, she guessed that one or two more risqué stories were being told since several times Lindir and Elrohir raised eyebrows and refused point blank to translate for Penny despite her insistence.

Humans are humans, after all. Not only that, but men will be men. Especially if there is beer involved.

Penny did her best to respond to questions, though she was sorely limited by her lack of progress with Westron. Most of the time, though, she was ignored, and happy to be so. She was surrounded by giant hunks of blond beefcake and loving every minute of it and 'oh her tankard was empty again, damn this was good beer, where's the jug ah yes to the brim LOVELY…'

Bad, _bad_ move on Penny's part.

Elrohir was dragged off at one point by his brother. Lindir took the opportunity of some of the minstrels having a brief break for more beer to engage them in conversation and try and learn a little about Rohirric dance tunes. Thus Penny was left with her beer and beefcakes.

She was on her fourth beer of the night…

Or at least she thought she was on her fourth beer of the night.

Now she tried counting, she realised it could have been more.

However many it was, though, her bladder was beginning to complain loudly but she had no idea how to ask where a latrine might be found. She was seriously tempted to wander off down the hill and back to camp to the latrine that had been dug before they left. She strongly suspected any latrine here on the hill may be of the Bree variety, and there was no WAY she was going through that again.

A young man next to her had been attempting to make small talk on and off for a while. He had felt it was only polite given she was clearly alone in some respects, and while her situation was odd, she seemed pleasant enough. He, being young, was less indoctrinated with a suspicion of strangers, let alone ones as unusual as Penny; and anyway he could not in all conscience ignore her given he was sitting right next to the woman. He was also quite drunk and would have happily chatted away to Saruman himself were he sat next to him at that point in the proceedings. They were sharing a jug of ale, and he was impressed by her clear delight in the drink – definitely a woman who knew a good brew when she met one, which was a plus point in her favour.

Now that Lindir had briefly wandered off, though, Penny was forced to rely on her fractured, near non-existent Westron, and pretty soon all conversation ground to a halt. The man (having already heard Eothain's 'hilarious' story of the time they filled his brother's bridal bed with a brace of badgers and twelve dead rats more times than he cared to think about) stood and offered his hand to Penny.

Penny stared at it for a moment. She blinked, a fog of beer clouding her brain.

Oh! A dance! Yeah, why not!

She grinned at him.

That she grasped his hand with such enthusiasm and launched herself into the fray so willingly should have been proof enough to anyone watching that she was well on the way to drunk.

After two dances of very exuberant bouncing about, though, Penny had to sit down before she wet herself. Meanwhile, the man was attempting conversation again, wondering how long he would have to do this before one of her friends came back.

"So, it must be strange for you to be in mortal company after so long," he said with a friendly smile. She did not understand and grabbed Rhimlath as he passed by to translate. He did so but did not stop, passing on to speak briefly to Lindir who was nearby, on his way back to rejoin Penny and the others but temporarily detained in conversation with another group of Rohirrim further up the tables.

"Oh, yes. Very strange." She tried her fractured Westron and hand-gestures to convey she had missed being in human company. 'Elf good but not same. I human and not with human big month. I happy be with human. Human nice. Elf nice but human big nice.'

Or at least that's what she _thought_ she had said.

What she did not realise was that she had actually used the word 'men' and not 'human,' thus the Rohirrim got _entirely_ the wrong impression. His friends were busy choking into their beers.

He blinked at her for a moment or two, suddenly seeing her in a completely different light. If he had not been so drunk he might have stopped to consider that the company she kept meant he could only have misunderstood. If his friends had not been so drunk they might have been able to point it out to him. Alas for Penny, they were all nearly as drunk as she was. A rather wide leer slowly spread across his face.

"Is that so? I might be able to help you there, Pen-ii," he grinned.

Nearby, Rhimlath was staring open-mouthed in horror at her even as Lindir turned to talk to him.

"Yes, Rhimlath, you wanted to speak to me? … Rhimlath? … Er, Rhimlath? Are you even listening to me?"

Penny, meanwhile, was aware the room was still spinning and, since she had been sat down for a while now, it could no longer be blamed on the dancing. More to the point if she did not get a move on, she would not make down the hill in time to get to the latrine. She was also finding the smoke in the place stifling. And not just the smoke, either. The brassicas seemed to be having their effect on the Rohirric digestive system and they were not shy about it… or not after several beers, anyway. Either that or it was the dogs.

"I need some air," she said in English – now too drunk to even remember to speak in Sindarin let alone try Westron.

She stood, swayed and stumbled; the young man, still grinning from ear to ear, stood also, catching her round the waist to stop her falling. Penny giggled. She was oblivious to the fact that he held her a little too close and a little too tight to be merely innocently friendly or helpful.

Rhimlath was talking animatedly into Lindir's ear. Lindir looked up in Penny's direction, alarmed.

"Air," Penny said again, gesturing in the direction of the doors.

The man nodded. He understood.

Or so he thought.

Penny staggered off while the young man turned to the table, picked up his tankard and downed the rest of his beer in one. He slammed it back down and leaned forward to speak to his comrades.

"I will see you on the morrow."

He grinned and winked. His friends gave leery snickers and wished him a 'pleasant evening.'

However, as the young man turned to leave and follow Penny outside he found his way blocked. He tried to focus and slowly realised he was staring at a tunic with very faint brocade in the shape of leaves… Not Rohirric. Definitely not Rohirric. He followed the tunic upwards and saw an elf glaring down at him. He blinked.

"And where do you think you are going?" Lindir's voice was calm and quiet, but with an unmistakable edge to it.

The young man, too drunk to recognise a very annoyed elf when he saw one, smirked.

"I am off for the night with… whatever her name is. Nice woman." The smirk grew wider. He was talking male to male, wasn't he? "Nice… _curves_," he added.

His friends saw the flash in Lindir's eye even if the young man did not. Within two seconds the table behind him was devoid of seated revellers for a good three feet on either side. They did not want to get hurt when the young Rohirrim was thrown over it.

"What did you just say?"

"I said I am off for the night-"

"No, you are not." Lindir leaned in close till their noses were practically touching. "You are going to sit down and drink more beer like a good little boy."

"Hey! I am no boy… as she is about to find out!"

Rhimlath held back Lindir's arm as Lindir made a swing for him.

"There has been a misunderstanding," Rhimlath interrupted, pushing his way between the youth and Lindir. "Her Westron is not good. You misunderstood her."

"No misunderstanding, my friend."

"I can assure you-"

It was then that the man did something incredibly stupid (as if none of this were not stupid enough already). He later said he had meant it as a joke, but at the time he sounded like he was trying to pick a fight. He wondered out loud, with a slight sneer on his face, whether he was being stopped because Penny, as the lone human among a load of elves, was used like a travelling whore hence she was their property and no one else was allowed a look in.

Lindir did not get to thump him. Rhimlath did it for him.

Of course, briefly, all hell broke loose with Rohirrim weighing in to say they had over reacted and while Celeborn and Erkenbrand (and many others) came over to find out what on earth was going on. Lindir was staring in Rhimlath in astonishment since he had never seen Rhimlath quite that angry before.

The young man, once he had been peeled off the table, slapped gently a few times and had half a jug of water thrown over him, was just about conscious enough to apologise. His friends accepted it was a misunderstanding and agreed he had been out of order in what he said. Hands were shaken and it was all smoothed over to the point that Rhimlath was invited by his friends to join them in a beer or twelve. After all, it would not be the first case of fisticuffs that night – it was part of what partying hard was all about, no?

"Er… Lindir?"

"Yes, Erestor?"

"I think you should come quickly. Where is Eleniel or Arwen?"

"Why? What is it?"

Erestor just beckoned Lindir to follow him to the doors. Lindir could see (and hear) what it was even before he had finished making his way past the dancing couples.

Penny was on top of the steps to the Meduseld, clinging on to a pillar with one arm flung out towards the valley below, singing "I Did It My Way" at the top of her lungs while a small, appreciative (if amused) crowd formed below her in the courtyard.

The walk back to the camp was an interesting one.

Eleniel came along, as did Lindir (who practically frog-marched her down the hill at points). Several others came out onto the steps to see them off where they were treated to a medley of some of the most extraordinary songs they had ever heard.

"Oh, this is too funny, Celebdor. Let us join them."

Mireth grabbed her betrothed's hand and practically pulled him down the stairs. Glorfindel, realising how much fresher the air was now he was outside and not relishing the prospect of braving once more the smelly smog filling the Meduseld, ambled along after them.

As the group wandered down the hill, Penny even tried to get them to dance. Eleniel and Mireth joined in, laughing, but the ellyn refused if only because it was more amusing watching Penny shimmy and boogie her way round the horse-shit. Thus Lindir was introduced to the delights of Abba, Tom Jones, Elvis Presley and so much more.

They had to stop her (Glorfindel literally put a hand over her mouth) in mid-flow of relating how she would 'survive, so long as she knew how to love, she knew she'd stay alive' as they passed the sentries on the gates. They felt, wisely, that her singing and dancing her way past the barrows of the kings would not go down too well. It was perhaps only fortunate Erestor was not with them so they could not get a running translation of it all. "Like A Virgin" would have gone down like a lead balloon and then some, had they known what she was singing about.

Needless to say she passed out before Eleniel and Mireth had even managed to finish unbuttoning her dress, so getting her dress off and her under a blanket took some manoeuvring, but they managed it. Just.

Outside the tent, Lindir was debating whether or not to go back up to the Meduseld and rescue Rhimlath (last seen surrounded by burly Rohirrim trying to explain to him why downing a tankard of beer as quickly as possible was a really good idea).

At last Eleniel and Mireth appeared looking triumphant.

"All done. She is out cold."

"Surprise, surprise," sniggered Celebdor.

"You might want to put a bucket by her bedroll," Lindir pointed out. "Just in case."

"Ah, yes, good thinking," Mireth headed off to fetch one. "You are the expert in such matters, after all, Lindir." She flashed him a cheeky grin over her shoulder.

"I beg your pardon! How dare you!"

"Oh, come now, Lindir. You know it's true."

Lindir raised a scornful eyebrow at Glorfindel. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Summer festival? Lothlorien? Not quite a millennium ago?" Glorfindel caught Celebdor's eye as he spoke and the pair broke into wide grins. Eleniel giggled.

"That was a bad fresh-water mussel, as you know perfectly well!" Lindir retorted hotly.

"Ah, yes. So you said."

"What do you mean 'so I said'? It was, Celebdor!"

"I believe you!"

"You clearly do not!"

"Well…" Celebdor looked doubtful "It was not the only occasion, you have to admit."

Lindir spluttered for a moment in the face of merciless sniggering.

"Fine. I am not staying here to be insulted. I am off to get Rhimlath before we find him serenading all of Rohan as well." So saying he strode off into the night back up the hill, trying to ignore the peals of laughter behind him.

Meanwhile Penny, safely in her tent and snoring loudly, was oblivious to it all.

* * *

Author's Notes

1. Please note some amendments to the previous chapter: all references to an 'eored' have been removed, since the amount of riders is a lot more than merely twenty to count as an eored. Also Eomer only reorganised the Marshall system after Thoeden's burial, so Elfhelm and Erkenbrand now introduce themselves as Second and Third Marshall.

2. In Appendix A of LOTR it says this: "Eomer was as his fathers before him; _but Eowyn was tall and slender…_" Eomer is described as 'tall, taller than the rest' in the chapter The Riders of Rohan in 'The Two Towers', thus I have assumed the 'but' in the first quote refers to Eowyn's slenderness. Hence I have made Eomer tall but stocky.

3. Eomer was very young when he became king – only 27. Eowyn was 23.

4. NL, please do not kill me for making your precious lust-object of a shield maiden not as pretty as Arwen. I know, I know, but as my canon-beta you have to admit that that's the reality.

5. Forgive my piece of doggerel. I've always liked the Anglo-Saxon style, and while I know JRRT said the Rohirrim were not Anglo-Saxon (or Norse) much of their culture is similar, and thus my poem snippet borrows from the style of that sort of poetry – lots of alliteration and 'coupling' of words.

6. I would also like to make it clear that I am not saying that sex before marriage was the 'norm' in Middle-earth; quite the opposite, in fact. However, humans are humans and drunk humans are even worse. Added to which, prostitution is not called 'the oldest profession' without good reason and I think it's fair to say that in most (if not all?) societies through the ages, even if it has been considered desirable if not obligatory to desist from such things before marriage, the emphasis has been far more on women than men in this regard: 'boys will be boys' was the attitude while girls were ostracised if they so much as thought about it. (Witness the practice in many societies of waving the bed sheets out the window after the wedding night so everyone could see the blood and thus rest assured she had indeed been a virgin, etc). I have tried to present human weakness and realism that is all, but I am not for a moment suggesting the Rohirrim are all at it like rabbits. Far from it. I hope this rambling explanation makes sense.

_Lôgrad_ - Rohirric for 'Rohan'


	18. The Morning After

My apologies for the long delay with this chapter. If it's any consolation this chapter ended up being a lot longer than I thought it would. My thanks, as ever, to all those reading and reviewing – it is much appreciated. :)

* * *

**Chapter 18 **– _The Morning After_

To say Penny felt rough the next morning would be an understatement. It took a few moments for her to realise she was even conscious at first, but once she did she immediately regretted it.

Though not half as much as when she then tried to sit up.

The tent spun round about her dully while her temples pulsed horribly. She clutched her forehead and bent forward with a groan. Her tongue felt like it was twelve sizes too big for her mouth and she had a raging thirst. Feebly she reached out for her water sac, not even realising that Mireth actually handed it to her.

Mireth and Eleniel, who had been waiting patiently for her to awake, chatting and sewing in the open doorway, exchanged a knowing smirk. Penny, oblivious, gulped greedily at the water.

"Good morning." Eleniel grinned at her as Penny finally put down the water sac with a gasp.

"Mhpmmf."

"How are you feeling?" Mireth chirruped brightly, knowing full well what the answer would be. It was obvious just from looking at Penny that she had a hangover that could have floored a bear – the slightly hooded eyelids, a narrowing of the eyes as if even thinking was hugely painful, the slack jaw, the vacant expression and the generally dishevelled appearance.

"Whrgghhh," Penny replied, thus adding the inability to form a coherent sentence to the above list.

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a second smirk.

Penny glared at them.

"Oh, I do beg your pardon. Were you expecting sympathy?" Eleniel laughed. "No one asked you to drink that much beer, Pen-ii."

"Ah, now be fair. Everyone agrees she clearly did not realise how strong it was. It was not Pen-ii's fault."

"True." Eleniel reached out for Penny's hand. "Time to get up, Pen-ii. A little cold water on your face and a bit of fresh air will do you some good and help you feel better."

"And some breakfast," Mireth added, also proffering a hand towards Penny.

"No. No breakfast," Penny mumbled, taking a hand in each of her own and hauling herself up to her feet. She paused for a moment as she got to an upright position as the tent reeled round her head once more. She took a side step as she steadied herself. "Woah." She giggled. "Still drunk."

Mireth and Eleniel shook their heads at her, laughing.

It was only as the cold water hit her face that what Mireth had said filtered through to Penny. She slowly looked up at her friend.

"Wait just one moment… What do you mean 'everyone agrees'?"

"Exactly that. Over breakfast everyone was saying that-"

Penny cut her off with a hand gesture. She blinked at Mireth like an owl, her brow furrowed as she tried to process the information.

"I have missed breakfast?"

"Very nearly, yes," Eleniel replied.

"And _everyone_ was talking about _me_ over breakfast?"

"Well, perhaps not everyone, but all of us that were there last night when we walked back together or saw you before we set off."

Penny was dimly aware she was still kneeling in front of the bowl with water dripping off the end of her nose. She reached for a cloth and began drying her face, standing up as she did so.

"We walked back?" Penny asked hesitantly. She had no memory of that at all. A cold horror gripped her. "And what do you mean 'saw me before we set off'?" She was not sure she wanted to know. She had a history of doing very stupid things while drunk. Brian, for one.

"You sang." Eleniel beamed at her.

"Oh, no," Penny groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

"And danced," Mireth added.

A muffled 'argh' came from Penny at that piece of news. Then she thought about it. She remembered dancing, or at least she thought she did, in the Meduseld. Though who on earth she had danced with, she had no idea. She looked up at Mireth.

"Ah, now wait, that is not so very bad. There were lots of people dancing in the great hall. You and Celebdor for a st-"

"No, no. You sang and danced all the way down the hill and to the camp," Mireth explained.

Penny opened her eyes wide at this appalling piece of news. She muttered something about needing to sit down and staggered back to her bedroll as Mireth and Eleniel burst out laughing.

"And people SAW this?"

"Oh, yes," Eleniel chortled. "Mireth and I joined in the dancing with you, if that makes you feel a little better about it all. The ellyn refused, though."

"Ellyn?"

"Oh, only Celebdor and Lindir-"

"Lindir? That is not what I needed to hear!"

"And Glorfindel also," Eleniel added.

"Glorfindel was there?" Penny blinked. "Oh, well, that settles it. I am not coming out of my tent for the rest of the day."

"Do not be so silly," Mireth giggled. "You were not the only one to get a little heady last night."

"Indeed, I think most of Rohan got drunk judging from the raucous singing and dancing of most of the mortals there last night."

"That is not the point, Eleniel."

"Well, it is not usual for women we know of to get quite that drunk, perhaps, but no one blames you, Pen-ii. You were not to know. The beer was very potent. It was hardly your fault. You are not the only one who woke up this morning feeling a little delicate."

"Mireth's right, Pen-ii. There were several ellyn this morning who were foregoing food for merely water and a little miruvor."

"And the infamous Lothlorien hangover cure."

"Ah, yes. I believe Rhimlath made a large batch of it for them all."

Penny missed the inference that Rhimlath had got nearly as drunk as she had been. She was still too alarmed at the idea of her singing and dancing through Edoras and making a spectacular arse of herself. If Lindir had been a witness then everyone would know and know in full, glorious detail too. If only she could remember… She clutched her head. Her temples were throbbing painfully.

"Owww."

At which point Eleniel and Mireth more or less dragged her out of the tent, insisting she needed food, air and something for her headache, despite Penny's protests.

As they made their way to the little space in the centre of the encampment, Eleniel and Mireth continued to reassure Penny. If she felt she really could not face people, then they could bring her some breakfast to her tent. However, Penny had to admit Eleniel had a point when she said that Penny would have to face them all sometime and that it was probably better to get it over with sooner rather than later. Mireth insisted others had been worse for wear that morning, that in fact one ellon had been found passed out under a table in the Meduseld in amongst a pile of sleeping dogs and brought back in a wheelbarrow like a sack of potatoes.

That last piece of information made Penny feel a whole lot better and she walked towards the prospect of a nice, soothing cup of tea with more confidence than she would have otherwise thought possible.

Breakfast was over, but there were still a few stragglers chatting or helping clear away the last of the victuals. Among the stragglers were a small group that included Lindir and Celebdor, neither of whom were eating or drinking anything. Penny had no time to make a last minute dash for it since Lindir spotted her straight away.

"At last! Pen-ii! Look, everyone, it is Songstress Pen-ii come to join us at last. Pen-ii, you do realise it is very nearly lunchtime?"

She glared at him. She suspected (rightly) he and Celebdor had chosen to wait for her long after finishing their morning meal simply so they could bait her.

"Shut up. I am not in the mood."

"Oh dear, not feeling terribly well, are we? Well, if you will drink so much beer, Pen-ii…"

"Well, I am sure you would know all about getting drunk, Lindir."

"Now, now, I was not the one serenading Rohan last night."

Penny had no answer to that. She waved her tea caddy at him while she struggled to find a retort, but her head hurt too much to think of one and besides which, seeing the tea in her hand reminded her that she really needed a cup. She turned away with an exasperated oath and stomped up to the remnants of the small fire where Eleniel was already putting some water in a little pot to heat up for her.

"It was quite a performance, Pen-ii. I was most impressed."

Penny scowled into the fire.

"I agree, Celebdor. Most 'interesting', would you not say?"

Penny could hear the laughter in Lindir's voice.

"Highly entertaining."

Penny glanced round to see Glorfindel standing a little way behind her, arms folded and broad grin on his face.

"You as well, Lord Glorfindel? For shame!"

He raised an eyebrow.

"My dear Pen-ii, if you go about hanging off gilded pillars singing at the top of your lungs to a crowd of Rohirrim below you and a bewildered group of revellers standing at the top of the steps to the great hall behind you, we cannot, in all conscience, ignore the fact."

There was a brief pause as they took in the look of horror on her face. Then they burst out laughing.

Penny turned back to the fire, letting her forehead fall to her knees as she hugged her shins. This was a bloody nightmare. Her temples were throbbing, she felt utterly vile and out of it, and she could do without all of this.

She had no choice, though.

She sat in a sullen, mortified heap while they teased her mercilessly for a good ten minutes. Several other elves – those who had seen her at the Meduseld or else back at the camp – joined in with their little observations while those who had not yet heard about it all had all their questions answered in full. Penny was thus treated to a blow-by-blow account of her entire performance from the steps of the Meduseld to the camp, including Lindir taking great delight in explaining how Mireth and Eleniel had attempted to drag her to her tent but she had pulled just as hard in the opposite direction shouting loudly that she needed the latrine before she wet herself.

"Oh, yes, I heard that," said an ellon at the far edge of the group as he packed away some bread. "My wife wondered what on earth was going on. You were very loud, Pen-ii."

Penny decided now would be a good moment for the ground to open up and swallow her.

"What is all this?" Rhimlath had appeared.

"Oh, just relating the walk back to camp for our friend Pen-ii here. Seems she does not remember a lot of it," Celebdor replied brightly.

"Speaking of which," Lindir interrupted, "I am most intrigued by some of the songs you were singing. It is a pity Erestor was not with us, since I would love to get translations for them all."

Penny looked at him. She knew that he knew perfectly well that if they were songs she had kept quiet about up until now, they were probably not at all suitable for one reason or another. He was just baiting her. She tried ignoring him. It was taking all her willpower not to explode into swearing, or stomp off back to her tent. Her hangover was not helping her mood. She was vaguely cheered by Mireth pressing a cup of tea into her hand and she slurped at it gratefully.

"What ARE you drinking, Pen-ii?" Rhimlath suddenly grabbed the cup and sniffed.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"Ugh, not this dish water again! Really, Pen-ii, I have no idea what you see in the stuff, but this will not cure a hangover."

"Now, look here, Rhimlath… I am NOT in the mood this morning. Do NOT start with me."

Rhimlath gave her a disdainful look. "But really, Pen-ii, this 'teeh' as you call it, is utterly vile st-"

"I will have you know _empires_ were built drinking this stuff!"

Rhimlath blinked at her as Penny snatched back her drink.

"Empires?"

"Shut up."

"No, you said 'empires'… What empires? Where?"

"I got my tenses muddled, I meant 'will be'. I was speculating. Leave me alone."

"That still doesn't answer my-"

"So, I want to know what 'gohl finn gar' means," Lindir hurriedly cut in. "That and 'teseks-sii'."

"Yes, Pen-ii, you must also teach us some of your dance steps." Glorfindel also tried to change the subject.

"Whur?" Penny blinked at him.

"I still want to know what she was-"

"I know 'shaht' is a tunic of some sort," Lindir continued, attempting to railroad Rhimlath into silence, "But Erestor was baffled by 'teseks-sii' when I asked him about it."

"That stuff is muck, I tell you," Rhimlath pointed at the tea pot in front of Penny.

"IT IS NOT!" Penny roared, on the verge of flinging her cup at him. This really was not helping her headache one iota. She paused suddenly. "Did you hurt yourself?"

Rhimlath hurriedly pulled back his hand, exchanging the briefest of glances with Lindir.

"No, no."

"But your knuckles are bruised-"

"I have a hangover cure that will work wonders," Rhimlath muttered, already getting to his feet. "Let me fetch it."

"I do not want it. Tea is all I need."

"I will fetch it anyway." He was already disappearing fast.

The decision had been made to spare Penny the further embarrassment of telling her about her Westron mistake the previous evening (and the consequences thereof). It was agreed that if the young man had not been quite so drunk, he would have immediately understood her intended rather than actual meaning. Added to which the young man (and his friends) were rather insistent that the story did not go too far since they were aware he had, in effect, insulted a guest and a friend of very high-ranking other guests. If the King had got to hear about it, the young man would have been torn off a strip, drunk or not.

Thus only a few knew. Elves may be gossips, but could keep their mouths shut if they needed to. One good thing had come from the incident, though: Rhimlath and Erestor had come to an agreement that her Westron lessons had to continue. No one wanted a repeat performance of the previous night's 'misunderstanding' in Gondor if only because etiquette was far more important there and the people far less forgiving. Not only that, but if Penny made a mistake like that again while in conversation with a less honourable sort too over-eager with drink and no one around to help her… Well, it really did not bear thinking about. Therefore Rhimlath had agreed to bow out and let Erestor, as her original teacher, carry on unimpeded.

Of course, several people had seen the fracas, and the fact that it had been Rhimlath who had landed the punch had set many tongues wagging. Over the rest of the day information would slowly be eked out so that by the evening nearly everyone in the camp would know that the scuffle had been over a misunderstanding in Westron. Of course everyone would put that down to Rhimlath's Westron being a little rusty, and it was an assumption Rhimlath was happy to leave uncorrected for the most part – for the young man's sake as much as Penny's.

Once Rhimlath had gone, Penny turned her attention back to Lindir's goading.

"Teseks-sii? I have no idea what you are talking about Lindir, but I suspect whatever it is, I will not tell you. Now, could you please leave me be? My head is hurting so badly I can barely keep my eyes open; I am ridiculously thirsty; I feel ill, tired, and am embarrassed beyond belief. I would like to sit here, drink my tea and try and recover. Is that too much to ask?"

"This is Lindir we are talking about here, Pen-ii," Eleniel pointed out. "Of course it is too much to ask."

"I have to say your style of dancing was… well… I am not sure that, in truth, I can find a word that well enough describes it."

"She was drunk, Glorfindel, I feel sure it was not an accurate representation," Lindir said.

"There was dancing?" The ellon at the far end looked highly amused.

"Oh, yes," Mireth responded gleefully. "Here, let us show you."

Penny watched in astonishment as Mireth dragged Eleniel to her feet and then the pair of them bobbed their heads and bounced from one foot to the other. They then added a few random arm gestures and hip wiggles into the bargain. The big finish was a perfectly executed move worthy of John Travolta himself as they pointed to the sky and then diagonally across themselves to the ground and back to the sky again. They collapsed into hysterics into each others' arms and the rest of the elves joined in their laughter.

"You call THAT dancing?" the ellon could hardly breathe he was laughing so hard.

"I know. It looks terribly much like someone with some sort of physical affliction, does it not?" sniggered Glorfindel.

"I still say Pen-ii actually had an itch or else a stone in one of her shoes," Celebdor countered.

"Care to enlighten us as to which it was?" Lindir turned to Penny.

Penny, however, was gone. She had fled back to her tent, taking her tea with her.

A little while later Eleniel appeared with an evil-smelling brew in a small jug: a gift from Rhimlath. Penny sniffed at it and had to stop herself from gagging.

"I know. It smells vile. It will work wonders, however, trust me. The Galadhrim swear by it."

Penny peered at the concoction. There was a raw egg floating on the top of it. She glanced up at Eleniel.

"It is up to you, Pen-ii. How unwell do you feel?"

"Very unwell. No, _extremely_ unwell."

It was true: her brain felt like it was trying to climb out of her skull. Eleniel gave her a look that said 'well, if you really feel that bad, then drink the drink.'

"I thought you were going to give me something for my headache."

Eleniel pointed at the jug. "I have."

"Oh."

Damn.

"Hold your nose and down in one."

Penny nodded. She took a deep breath, screwed up her courage and did exactly as Eleniel suggested. It took all her strength to not let it just come right back up again, and how she managed to keep it down, let alone gulp down the entire thing, she had no idea. Swallowing the egg had been particularly nasty.

Within fifteen minutes she was feeling very well indeed, though. It was unpleasant but it worked.

Mireth had disappeared and would not be seen for most of the day. She, along with many others, had been commandeered by Elrond to deal with any of the sick and injured who were waiting for them. Elrond's sons had learnt much from their father in the ways of healing. They had done what they could but knew that for a couple of cases they could do nothing, whereas their father may just be able to help. He was the greatest healer in Arda, after all.

Consequently, the presence of Elrond and so many skilled elvish healers in Rohan was a great blessing to many of the Rohirrim. Their healers had skill, but were not comparable even to those in Minas Tirith (whose skill was renowned). Those Rohirrim who had suffered injury in Gondor had received the best possible treatment that existed amongst humans. Those who had been injured at Helms Deep had not been so fortunate. Several had died who in different circumstances might have lived, and there were many whose wounds had festered or been incorrectly dealt with. Elrond would have to perform or insist on more than one amputation today, just as his sons had feared. There would even be one or two lives that not even Elrond could save.

Word had spread and thus many had arrived to seek healing and succour. The skill of the elves as healers had been seen in Elladan and Elrohir, and while many were wary of the elves or in awe, for others the prospect that someone might be able to help their sick or their dying meant their fear was quickly overcome by their desperation. Not only that, but did these elves not have the 'magical queen from Lothlorien' with them? She could do anything, so it was said, and was hugely powerful.

Overnight a small crowd had formed near the encampment, and by first light a small tent and awning were being used as an impromptu triage unit.

Several had nothing to do with the war. A few cases were desperately sad. A mother whose boy was crippled, one leg withered, refused to understand there was nothing the elves could do for the child. Similarly the blind, the mad, the dying were treated with kindness and tenderness, but it had otherwise been a wasted journey for them or their families.

For the most part, though, the elves were inspecting wounds made by blade or arrow, or occasionally burns where a house had collapsed on a woman or a child. Often there was something they could give them – a balm that might aid healing or reduce scarring, perhaps – either that or advise them on how best to deal with the wound, to congratulate whoever had first tended them. Once or twice they saw something more serious where more detailed and lengthy work was needed.

Galadriel in particular made a point of talking to all who were not too intimidated by her. Widows and widowers, mothers who had lost sons or brothers, young children now orphaned, all felt their hearts calmed a little by Galadriel if she spoke to them, or even many of the other Eldar. There was such reassuring wisdom of the Ages with the elves that many Rohirrim felt their troubles, their pain eased for a while. The black despair lifted, and for perhaps the first time since the War was won they could see a brighter future in spite of all that they had lost.

Thus the elves' brief sojourn in Rohan would serve a higher purpose than mere etiquette and diplomacy. As Mireth had suggested it would be the night before: it was a busy day.

Penny was at something of a loose end and, feeling much better, wondered what she could do to help. She was desperate to go and have a wander round Edoras but was not sure if that would be acceptable or wise for to do so alone. She and Eleniel filled the morning playing with the children milling about with their families near the little triage tent. Penny taught them stick-in-the-mud which seemed to go down well, and they played a sort of hide-and-seek too. Mostly it was running and chasing, though.

"She is good with children."

"Indeed. I wonder if she was always so. With her own people, I mean."

Erestor glanced at Lindir.

"I think you can probably guess as well as I the answer to that, Lindir."

"Perhaps. I remember Halbarad saying how very much she had changed from when he first met her."

"She has changed. She would be the first to admit it, I think."

Penny sped past them chasing after a particularly giggly three year old girl with a mass of blond curls. Erestor raised an eyebrow.

"Either she has the constitution of an ox or else she has had the Galadhrim Hangover Cure."

"Rhimlath insisted on making her some."

"Ah. That would explain it. Argh!" Erestor switched to Westron as a small person suddenly darted round behind him and grabbed him about the knees. "Mind out there!" He had one hand on Lindir's shoulder and Lindir had hold of his arm. Even an elf could be floored by a determined toddler on the rampage if taken unawares.

"I am terribly sorry, Erestor. Hey you, come out from there. No using ancient high-born ellyn as hiding places. It is not fair."

Penny switched to a phrase in Westron she had learnt from Eleniel that morning that seemed to mean something akin to 'I'm coming to get you'. The child ran off with a delighted squeal, Penny close behind. Erestor recovered himself and straightened his tunic. He sighed.

"Ancient high-born ellyn as a hiding place… How is it she manages to make a compliment almost sound like an insult at the same time?" He chuckled.

At lunch Penny mentioned to Erestor about wanting to see Edoras in daylight. Elladan overheard and said he would happily give her a guided tour.

"Are you not busy? With the healers?"

"No, no. I can spare an hour."

In that hour Penny forgave him completely for the comb-washing incident. Elladan was true to his word and did indeed give her a complete tour of the place. Back on top of the hill she was able to see the answer to something that had been bothering her. She could not for the life of her work out why they had pitched camp on the north side of Edoras. It meant the camp sat right in the path of a strong north wind that had been whistling into the valley for most of the previous night as well as quite close to the barrows of the kings (which did not bother the elves but gave her the heebie-jeebies, frankly). She even said as much to Elladan as they made their way slowly through the town.

"Surely we could have made camp on the south side. We would have been screened from the wind for a start."

"Well, the wind is shifting, Pen-ii. Do you not notice it?"

Penny had to admit she had no idea about such things. She was aware, however, that as they neared the courtyard in front of the Meduseld the stench was not lessening the way it had the previous night. The wind was indeed coming from the southern side. Elladan led her round to the back of the great hall and pointed.

"That is your reason, Pen-ii. I know, given you share many of our elvish sensibilities about such things, you would not want to pitch camp too close to it."

It was a midden heap. A huge midden heap. A midden heap that proved how long, in human terms, Edoras had been around. Next to it was a smaller one that housed rotting down horse manure that was covered with weighted down sacking.

"But the stench…"

"It may be breezy up here, but it is also warm summer. It is the heat. I can assure you that in the winter months you barely notice it."

She looked at him.

"Well, a human might barely notice it."

Penny was ever so grateful Rohan was not an option on the list of where she may end up living for the rest of her days. She suspected that Minas Tirith would not be quite so rough and ready.

Elrond was back for a late lunch when they returned to camp. Penny knew this because she was sent for. Elladan led her to Elrond's tent, checking that she could enter and then leaving her to it. Penny felt slightly nervous. She wondered if she was about to get a dressing down for last night?

"Ah, Lady Pen-ii. You have had a pleasant hour with my son, I trust?"

"Yes, Lord Elrond, I thank you."

Elrond was seated with a cup in one hand. Erestor was leaning against some packs near him, a second cup in his hand and a wine skin beside him. There was no one else in the tent.

"I just wanted to let you know that after some discussion we feel you need to get back to your Westron lessons. You need to be able to better interact with the humans you will encounter."

Elrond's face betrayed nothing, though he knew exactly what had happened last night.

"Oh. I see. Very well."

"You need not look so worried. Rhimlath and I have come to an agreement," Erestor reassured her.

Penny looked unconvinced. She would believe it when she saw it.

"I also wanted to say… How shall I put this? You are, of course, free to do as you wish, but it might be more prudent if you were to treat any beverage as being potentially very strong in future."

Elrond was trying to be as tactful as he could.

"No one blames you, Pen-ii. Indeed we elves enjoy life, as you know full well; but mortals, especially Gondorians, are sticklers for their perceived principles. Women in higher society simply do not drink to excess. I felt I should warn you."

Penny could feel herself flushing a little. She felt embarrassed and, though she hardly dared admit it, faintly riled that she should be treated like some overgrown child in this way.

"It was hardly deliberate on my part, Lord Elrond, I can assure you. I certainly paid the price this morning."

They laughed quietly.

"I have no doubt, Pen-ii. Nor were you the only one. I felt it only fair that you be aware of how such a thing would be frowned upon in Gondor, that is all."

"Not only that," Erestor added, "but you would not wish to let something slip that you might later regret." Again this hinted at last night's debacle though Penny little knew it. "Such as empires being built on tea, for example."

Penny shut her eyes momentarily.

"No harm done. Glorfindel tells me Rhimlath had no idea what you meant by it."

"I am still amazed that such a drink will prove so useful," Elrond commented dryly. He saw the look in Penny's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so it is your people that have built this empire, I take it?"

"And lost it too, which is no bad thing."

"How so?"

"Men oppressing men is not something to be condoned."

"Ah. Indeed."

"May I leave now?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Yes. That was all we wished to say."

Elrond watched as a slightly tight-jawed Penny left the tent with a nod of the head.

"We annoyed her a little, I think," Erestor mused.

"It needed to be said," Elrond returned. "She should consider herself fortunate that we had not made it clear to her precisely how foolish she was last night."

"She may have made the same vocabulary mistake whether drunk or no, Elrond."

"Perhaps. That is not her fault-"

"No, it is not," Erestor cut in hotly.

Elrond held up a hand to stop him before the rant began. "Nor is it entirely Rhimlath's."

Erestor started to say something and then decided against it.

Meanwhile Penny was trying not to be annoyed. They had meant it kindly. They had not told her off. It still rankled a little, though. 'Like being called in to see the headmaster,' she thought to herself.

The rise in her irritability levels seemed to indicate the hangover was returning with a vengeance. She went to her tent to read for a little while but ended up falling asleep. When she awoke it was late afternoon and, even after she got up, she still felt a little groggy.

She wandered off to see where everyone was and what, if anything, was happening.

She ambled through the camp, back towards the little triage tent and the group of children she could see playing with Mireth, Celebdor and a few others. As she did so, she noticed, and not for the first time, that the adult Rohirrim barely acknowledged her.

'You would have thought, with me being the only human among this lot,' she fumed, little realising that it was precisely _because_ she was the sole human among a bunch of elves that the Rohirrim thought her strange.

Not knowing any kind of Westron would have been odd enough (even though most Rohirrim knew little or none themselves), but for her to then be chattering away in Sindarin with the elves meant she was immediately branded an enigma.

Those that had fought or heard tales of what had gone on at Helm's Deep, let alone everywhere else, knew that long forgotten children's tales and folklore had suddenly come to life and proved themselves to be true. Huorns, hobbits, elves, ents - let alone people walking through the Paths of the Dead and surviving, or the King returned to Gondor and Sauron being defeated - were hard things to get your head around for most in Rohan, so you would have thought one more oddity would have made no difference here or there.

But Penny was that much stranger in some ways precisely because of her ordinariness. She was not of an unknown race lost in the mists of time. She was not a fulfilment of ancient prophesies or anything like it. She was just a foreigner.

That would have been bad enough, but she was also a foreigner who was hanging around with a very odd bunch of people indeed as far as your average Rohirrim was concerned. Not that they thought badly of the elves; far from it, but they were still a strange people known only by whisper and rumour. Elladan and Elrohir's presence among them of late had done much to allay such things, but it would never leave completely. Thus Penny was about as alien as it was possible for a human to be. Heck, even someone from Harad would be able to converse (just about) with a Rohirrim who spoke Westron.

No, Penny was just _weird_.

Added to which, since she was not staying and had all these elves to keep her company, with whom she could converse easily and among whom she clearly had good friends, the Rohirrim left her to it and made no effort with her. Why should they? It was not rudeness so much as wary practicality. She was no threat – that would be an insult indeed to Elrond and his people to think they would travel with someone dangerous amongst them – but she was odd enough to be given a wide berth.

News of that sort travelled fast, too.

"Have you seen there is a woman travelling with them?"

"I know! And speaks not a word of Westron, so I'm told."

"Strange, I call that. Very strange."

"Found wandering, she was, apparently. Lost and alone. But spoke no language of the north."

"Well, she's not from the south, either, I'll tell you that much for nothing."

"Have you _seen_ the way she laughs and jokes with them?"

"Well, she has been staying with them for some time, so it's said."

"Yes, but where is her husband? Or her family? She's travelling alone, you know. She came all this way _alone_… with all those beautiful males at her beck and call. Disgusting, I call it!" (Some of the more trenchant 'fishwives' amongst the Rohirrim showed a distinctly base lack of understanding where elves were concerned; usually the ones who had been pushing their daughters under the noses of Elladan and Elrohir and been most put out when neither had shown the slightest interest).

"I don't like it. My mother always said to me…"

And so it went on. Little did she know it, but for most of the duration of her stay, Penny's ears were burning.

By the time she joined in with playing with the children, she actually found one or two mothers nearby snatching their children from her with a glare. One even spat something in Rohirric to her that was clearly very unfriendly and meant 'get the hell away from my daughter.' In any other circumstances Penny would have been upset or even angry. As it was she was still feeling a little wiped out, despite her afternoon nap, and responded to the woman with an astonished stare and nothing more.

She decided to sit out the rest of the games and any child that came to her she would shoo away with a laugh and a smile, telling them to go play.

She was actually feeling a bit weird, truth be told, and not because she was aware of two women muttering to each other, arms crossed over their bosoms and glancing in her direction every now and then.

Supper was up at the Meduseld once more. Penny was quiet all the way up the hill and felt as if she had very little energy.

"Are you unwell?"

"I think the hangover is back, Mireth, nothing more. An early night, that is all I need."

Mireth glanced at Rhimlath who was walking along behind them and he gave a slight shake of the head. The hangover cure should have counteracted it all completely, even in a mortal. Mireth decided to keep an eye on Penny.

The meal was simply that: a meal, not a feast. Soup, cold cuts, bread, cheese and fruit. Penny rejected all offers of beer, much to people's amusement. Mireth also noted, though, that she ate very little. Indeed Penny spent most of the meal staring at the bowl of soup in front of her and pushed it away practically untouched.

She seemed barely aware of the gentle ribbing of Rhimlath going on around her.

"Which table was it, Rhimlath? That one? This one?"

"You know, I felt sure I could smell wet dog all day. Have you washed since last night, Rhimlath?"

Rhimlath was doing his best to ignore them. "I shall rise above it."

"As opposed to sinking below us all to the floor," sniggered Lindir.

Rhimlath put down the apple he was paring with a knife. "Now see here, Lindir-"

"Don't berate me! I rescued you, remember. I could have left you there."

"You dragged me feet first down all those steps!"

"You are heavy!"

"I have lumps on the back of my head now!"

"Fine! Next time I'll leave you in a heap of stinking, slavering hounds, then!"

Penny suddenly cut in. "That was _you_?"

Rhimlath coloured slightly. "Ai, Elbereth. Even Pen-ii knows." He turned to her. "I believe you are in no position to mock those who had one beer too many last night."

"Perhaps. Even so… The mighty Rhimlath floored. Literally."

Celebdor choked on his soup, he laughed so hard. "Ah, but Pen-ii, Rhimlath was doing some 'flooring' of his own last night."

Rhimlath narrowed his eyes at Celebdor.

"Oh, yes. He got into a fight. Did you not, Rhimlath?"

Her grogginess temporarily forgotten, Penny stared at Rhimlath open-mouthed. "You? In a fight? A fist-fight, you mean? So that's how your hand got hurt!" She started laughing.

Rhimlath fumed. "Why does everyone find this so amusing? I have fought in many a battle in my time, you know."

"I am sure you have, Rhimlath, it's just… well… you are Rhimlath." Penny sniggered.

"Pen-ii makes a good point," chortled Celebdor.

"Rhimlath had his reasons, Pen-ii" Lindir said quietly, his tone suddenly serious. Penny glanced at him, wondering what he meant.

"Yes, what WAS it all about?" Eleniel's eyes shone bright with eagerness. "I have heard so many different versions about it all. Is it true you managed to mangle your Westron so badly you insulted his mother, he returned the favour, and you saw the red mist?"

"No, it is not!" Rhimlath looked outraged.

"So, what did happen, then?"

"I am honour bound not to repeat it."

Celebdor turned to his neighbour. "So it _was_ his fault, then. Just as we suspected."

"Pen-ii?" Mireth was suddenly concerned to see Penny had turned round in her seat and was struggling to get to her feet. She was looking very pale. "Pen-ii, what is it?"

"N-nothing, I just… I just do not feel too well. I think I need to go back to camp. I just need a lie down… or some fresh air."

Glances were exchanged.

"It's the effects of last night, I am sure."

"I will go with you." Mireth was already on her feet.

"Well, I will accompany you," Celebdor added.

"No, I will," Rhimlath responded quickly. He was grateful to be able to avoid answering everyone's questions if nothing else. "I have finished eating. You stay and finish your meal, Celebdor. I will take them both." He wiped the blade of his small knife and pocketed it, then handed the remains of the apple to Lindir. "We shall take one of the horses. It will save Penny the walk if she is feeling that tired."

Mireth did not return to the Meduseld with Rhimlath but stayed with Penny as she washed and got ready for bed. By the time she crawled under her blanket, Penny was aware that she was feeling very out of it indeed, but just put it down to tiredness and delayed after effects of last night's beer.

All that changed at around midnight. It then became brutally clear it had nothing to do with the hangover at all.

* * *

Author's Notes:

I imagine this game is played the world over, but it may not be called 'stick-in-the-mud' by everyone. It's like 'tag' or 'it'. One person is chasing and if they catch or touch you then you are frozen and cannot move. Others can 'unfreeze' you by crawling between your legs, but they have to be careful not to be caught themselves in the process. The object is for the person who's 'it' to try and catch everyone so they are frozen.

There are Viking or Anglo-Saxon examples that show that midden heaps can get very big indeed, especially if next to a settlement that stays in situ for centuries. They can form near barrow-sized hills, and indeed are sometimes mistaken for barrows.

If anyone is at all interested I have started a forum. Anyone is welcome, especially if you have burning questions or comments you'd like a reply to, since I cannot reply to reviews individually. You will find the link via my profile. Please do not use the forum for chapter reviews - that is what the review function is for. :)  



	19. It Never Rains

**Chapter 19** – _It Never Rains_

Penny was having bad dreams. Of what, she was not sure, but she was aware she was restless even as she slept. It felt like she was waking up every five minutes, though of course she was not, and the dreams seemed vivid enough at times that the line between reality and fantasy was blurred. Every now and then she would become fully conscious for a second or two and the thought would flit through her head that she was going to be exhausted in the morning if this carried on. She was also aware at such moments that she was feeling increasingly unwell. Hard to put her finger on exactly, but she was feeling 'icky' and a bit achy.

Mireth murmured words over her every time she noticed Penny stirring and eventually, by the time the other ellith were arriving back from the Meduseld, Penny had passed into a slightly easier sleep.

Not for long, though.

It was the middle of the night when Penny awoke with a start. She felt that horrible sort of clammy dampness about her that meant she had been sweating all over, but that was not her immediate concern.

No, her immediate concern was much more desperate.

She had that arching in the back of her throat, her saliva glands suddenly in overdrive: she knew she was about to throw up at any moment. Not only that, but judging from the violent cramps in her stomach she also needed the latrine and _urgently_.

She had no time to think. She leapt to her feet, grabbing her blanket and wrapping it round her as she did so, then ran as fast as she could out of the tent.

"Pen-ii?" Mireth sat bolt upright. The other ellith in the tent were just as startled.

There was no answer. Penny, dressed in nothing but an undershift and a blanket, was already steaming over the grass outside at top speed. Eleniel, Arwen and Mireth quickly pulled dresses on over their heads and ran out after her, calling her name.

It was not terribly late, or not as far as elves were concerned who need far less rest than humans. Thus there were still a few small groups of people round the fire chattering, laughing and singing quietly. They all heard the shouting and looked up to see what the matter was. Erestor, Rhimlath, Lindir, Glorfindel and Celebdor were on their feet the moment they heard Penny's name and then saw her racing along as if a horde of orcs were on her tail.

Penny was not sure she was going to make it. She was straining against the stomach-lurching, gagging sensation in her throat. When her blanket caught on a tent-peg she had no time to stop to try and wrench it free. Instead she had to let it fall, clapping her hand to her mouth as she did so, nearly stumbling, desperate to reach her goal before her body completely rebelled against her.

Summer undershifts are made of a thin material and the moon was high and full. As Penny's blanket fell to the ground there was a collective gasp along with several oaths and load exclamations as every ellyn watching turned away at the same time, instinctively shutting their eyes as they did so.

That had been a LOT more of Penny than any of them had ever wanted to see.

One hand grasping her undershift in her hand to stop herself tripping, Penny pelted down the slight slope to the latrine. The onlookers had their hands to their eyes or were squinting slightly, their heads turned away as if unsure of quite where to look. Meanwhile, Penny near enough threw herself behind the latrine screens and immediately started retching loudly and miserably.

Something was clearly _very_ wrong.

Several ellyn started towards the edge of the encampment to see if they could help in any way. As they did so they were overtaken by the three ellith running as fast as their legs could carry them. Lindir held out his hand to stay Eleniel as she hurried past with Penny's fallen blanket.

"No, Lindir, you stay here. We'll see to it. Please, give her some privacy."

He nodded. Penny could just be heard in the distance being very violently ill. The males turned and retreated. Most went back to the fire, suddenly quiet and uneasy, but those who knew Penny well stayed in a small group where they could just see the screens and the trio of ellith talking animatedly outside them. Glorfindel went off to let Elrond know what was happening.

The next hour was amongst the most vile Penny had yet suffered in Middle-earth, or so she decided later.

It was a good job she just made it to the latrine, because the action of her body spasming with each violent retch made sure that her bowels kicked in as well. She had no control over her body, and every few minutes it betrayed her. She was losing any solids or fluids she may have taken in over the last twenty-four hours in the most unpleasant way her body knew how.

Eventually Mireth persuaded Penny to let her come into the latrine, though that had been a battle and a half, with Penny point blank refusing between sobs and retches until they could hear her teeth chattering, and not just from the fresh night air. At which point Mireth had got very forceful indeed, reminding Penny she was a healer and seen pretty much everything in her time. She then took over the situation, helping Penny get out of the old undershift and wrapping the blanket round her to keep her warm since it was clear she could not move for a little while yet. Then she instructed the others to bring a clean undershift and some water.

As Arwen and Eleniel hurried back to the camp, Elrond met them to get an assessment of the situation. Eleniel left Arwen to it while she went to fetch the water, undershift and another blanket in case it was needed. Arwen gave her father the briefest outline of what was happening. She did not need him to tell her this was potentially very serious indeed. At only a slight remove to them both, the other ellyn stood quietly listening to what she was saying. The expressions on their faces said it all.

Penny was in very serious trouble, and they all knew it.

At last Penny's stomach and gut realised there was nothing left to get rid of for the time being and relented. She washed herself (leaves were useless) as best she could, swilled water round her mouth. She tried drinking a little, but regretted it when she more or less brought it straight back up again. Mireth and Eleniel helped her into a clean shift, Arwen wrapped a second blanket round her, and the four walked slowly back to the encampment… or tried to. The first few times they barely got a few feet away from the latrine before Penny had to make a mad dash back into it, but eventually they made it as far as Elrond and the others.

Penny was pale and shivering, her hair lank against her head. It was obvious she was very ill indeed. She barely noticed the group of concerned looking ellyn exchanging glances as they saw her. She just let Arwen, her arm round Penny's shoulder, lead her back to her tent.

Once there they wrapped her in blankets and put her to bed.

Throughout the rest of the night they watched over her as she grew increasingly feverish. At least once Elrond came and murmured quietly over her, ancient lore he had learnt from elves as old as Galadriel herself. Nor was he the only one: several among the healers recited or sang in an attempt to help Penny in any way they knew how.

She could not keep anything down, though they tried to get her to drink a little water. Mostly, though, she needed a chamber pot since she had no time to make it to the latrine each time, even if she had had the energy to get herself there (which she did not by this stage). She felt hugely ashamed and embarrassed at such moments, well aware that others could no doubt hear her even outside the tent thanks to elvish hearing and the complete lack of privacy. At least the other ellith that usually shared the tent had all gone to rest elsewhere or decided to stay up for the night, thus giving Penny some space, and she was grateful for small mercies.

In her more lucid moments, Penny was scared.

If this was something like salmonella…? God, that hospitalised people, didn't it? Even with all the advances of modern medicine, people died of that kind of thing in the twenty-first century, didn't they? What did they have here? A few bits of old twig in water. What sodding use was that?

She felt waves of despair and fear roll over her when she thought about it.

She was going to die. She had come to see Rohan, and it had bloody killed her! She was _going to DIE._

Her distress was palpable to any in the tent with her, and not just because they could sense such moments. She would become more restless, try and get up or even speak. She even wept a little at times: from sheer exhaustion, feeling so horribly unwell, the shame of the diarrhoea, but mostly because she was more scared than she had ever been in her life.

"She fears death," Galadriel said quietly to Elrond. She had insisted on coming to see if there was something she could do the moment Elrond had informed her and Celeborn. "This illness is something that even in her time they sometimes cannot cure."

"Indeed." Elrond looked grim. "I have seen such illness carry off many mortals before now." He sighed. "She is young and strong. Let us pray she can fight this."

Just before dawn she was able to keep down a little water, but she seemed strangely reluctant to drink it.

"You must, Pen-ii," Mireth insisted quietly. "You need to replace the water you have lost."

"Boil," was all Penny could manage to croak out.

"What is it, Pen-ii? What do you need? If you are able to keep this down, then I can give you a little medicine." Elrond was kneeling beside her bedroll.

"Boiling kills diseases in water."

Elrond nodded. "I know, Pen-ii. You forget I have long learnt knowledge in this field. All the water we will give you from now on has been boiled and kept separate from any other water. You need not fear."

She muttered her thanks and an apology.

"Do not apologise. It is as well to tell us of anything that you think may help us heal you."

The moment they were sure she was keeping the water down they made her drink a herbal concoction made with miruvor and then, a little later, a paste of berries and herbs. The latter tasted vile – like jam and oregano – but she was assured it was the best thing to deal with stomach bugs.

She sank back to sleep, but not before bringing the jam paste back up again. They would have to try again with it later.

"What are we to do? She cannot travel in such a state and yet we have to leave today if we are to reach Minas Tirith in time."

"We cannot impose upon the Rohirrim to look after her, Ada."

Already tents and awnings were being dismantled, horses readied, bags packed. Dawn had broken and, while they would not be off for a while yet since there was much to be done, a decision had to be made about what to do with Penny. An impromptu meeting was held in Elrond's tent.

"Arwen, you know how ill she is. It is not at all practical for her to come with us, much as I am sure your father would wish her to so that he could keep an eye on her care. In her current state, she would have to stop very frequently for at least a day or two, possibly longer. She would slow us down or else get left far behind." Erestor was trying to be practical.

"She would also find travelling very uncomfortable," Galadriel said quietly. "Any movement is a trial to her: she is wracked with aches and pains."

"The Rohirrim have one or two competent enough healers, and we would leave strict instructions as to how she was to be treated."

"With all respect, Elrond, are you sure that is the wisest of courses?" Lindir looked sceptical. "Besides, I thought the whole point of inviting her to travel with us was so she could see Gondor. At this rate-"

"She could always be sent for once she is recovered," Erestor interjected.

"Lord Elrond, you said yourself we would have to leave instructions with the healers. Would it not be better for her to stay with us who need no such instruction?" Mireth, as one of the chief healers of Imladris and a close friend of Penny's, had been asked to accompany Arwen to this meeting.

"You have seen this place," Arwen added, also addressing her father, "You have heard Elladan and Elrohir talk of it." Arwen gestured at her brothers, both sitting quietly on their father's bedroll listening to the debate swing back and forth. "The Rohirrim are a good and noble people, but their habits…"

Arwen did not finish the sentence. She knew her father understood her meaning.

"That was also what I was referring to," Lindir added quietly.

"I agree." Glorfindel's mellow tones were added to the discussion. "She managed to avoid falling ill in all the time she was in Imladris and while we were travelling. No coincidence, I would suggest."

"I am aware of that," Elrond replied. "In truth I was thinking that one or two of our number would stay with her to make sure she was properly attended to and that things were kept clean."

"As clean as they can be in this place, Ada," muttered Elladan. "There are limits even for the most conscientious of elves."

He gave an involuntary shudder. His elvish sensibilities had been sorely tried by his brief stay with the Rohirrim. It was not an experience he wished to repeat any time soon.

"If it is your decision that Pen-ii stay, then I would happily stay with her," Mireth said. "I know Celebdor would stay with me, and probably Eleniel also." Her tone made it clear, though, that she did not think this would be the best thing to do.

Arwen looked at her father, her eyes pleading. "This place has made her ill. What is to say she will not get worse if she stays here? I realise it will be hard work for her and us dealing with one so ill while we travel, but-"

"There is also the added issue of leaving a sick mortal behind us here amongst a people who are naturally inward-looking and suspicious," Elrohir pointed out. "You do not think that Pen-ii would be looked upon with displeasure? A sick stranger in their midst uninvited?"

"She would be under royal patronage, Elrohir."

"Elrohir makes a fair point, Erestor," Celeborn countered. "I can see the argument on both sides here, but I think we can only take her with us, Elrond. I understand you were trying to make things easy for all concerned, but the risk to her health is too great. You yourself commented on the conditions here in Rohan to me only the other evening, did you not?"

It was true. Elrond's sons had warned him before that first trek up the hill, but even Elrond could not quite believe it till he saw it for himself.

"Compared to some of the peoples in the north-" Elrond began.

"Oh, I think we can all agree they are not the worst of mortals by any means in terms of sanitation and cleanliness. Neither are they up to the standards we elves consider usually acceptable, however."

"Or Pen-ii's standards," Lindir pointed out. "It was one of the things that she shares with us and marks her as different from most mortals I know."

"Oh, indeed. Such things matter as much to her as they do to us." Mireth nodded her head in agreement.

There was a brief silence then as everyone looked to Elrond. His was to be the final decision.

"Can we still reach Minas Tirith in time for midsummer?"

Glorfindel and Erestor nodded.

"If necessary a small group of us can follow slowly behind if we are really losing too much time, Elrond. This is Pen-ii's life we are discussing here. I know you would agree that conditions here might do her more harm than good."

"I am aware of that, Glorfindel. I had thought, given the practical difficulties, that if I left instruction or even one or two elves here with her… But I see now that even that would probably be too much of a risk. However, it may be that we cannot help her even with all our skill. Once such a sickness takes hold, as you all well know, there is little that can be done other than hope the one affected can battle their way to health."

Another silence fell, though for a different reason this time. They all knew the stakes were high and though some of them were perhaps not as attached to Penny in friendship as Lindir or Mireth, it still saddened them to think of any mortal being in this much danger.

"Do I take it that she travels with us, then?" Arwen's voice was very quiet. Elrond crossed over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down into her eyes.

"Yes. It is for the best for her sake. I quite agree with you. Do not fear, Arwen, we shall do all we can for her."

"And we shall get you to Estel in time also." Elrohir smiled and winked, then laughed as his sister flushed a little.

Back in Penny's tent a little later, Arwen was crouched down beside her. She stroked her forehead gently, and Penny opened her eyes blearily and looked up at her.

"I am sorry."

"Do not be so foolish, Pen-ii. You cannot blame yourself for falling ill."

Penny felt so unwell it really was not funny. She was as scared as hell and just could not get warm no matter how many blankets they put on her. Arwen could feel how hot her forehead was beneath her palm.

"Pen-ii, we need to leave today, and you are perhaps too unwell to travel."

Penny immediately focused all her attention on Arwen.

"We considered leaving you here under the care of the Rohirrim. My father would have returned for you on his way North or sent for you from Minas Tirith when you are recovered."

"No!"

Penny struggled to get upright. Mireth tried to get her to lie back down but she would not, though she had little enough strength to sit up. She instead used Mireth's arm to rest on. She had no idea what she had made her ill. It could have been anything: one badly cooked piece of meat, one person's unwashed hands on a piece of fruit or any food item, bugs in the water her system was not used to, the general grottiness and filthiness of the place… Who knew? Whatever the case, Penny was convinced that if she stayed she was highly likely to ingest more of whatever bug it was, or other more virulent bugs that would finish her off even if this one did not.

"You cannot! Please! I will die if I stay here! Please, I beg you!"

"Calm yourself, Pen-ii. I was only explaining that-"

"I am safer with those who can heal, with those who are clean! Please…"

She was aware her travelling in this condition would be a huge pain in the arse for them all, but this was a case of life or death as far as she was concerned.

"Do not fear, Pen-ii. We realise that. You will go with us. I was trying to explain our reasoning, that was all."

Penny sank back down onto her bedroll. Thank God. The effort was huge to talk let alone to try and think this coherently. She nodded.

"I am sorry. Of course."

"You really are too ill to travel, but we feel we cannot leave you here. As you say, you will be better served being in the company of our healers."

'And out of the way of the filth of Rohan,' Penny thought. She glanced at Arwen and suddenly realised that was indeed a large part of the reason.

"We have cared for you this long, Pen-ii. We shall make sure you make it to Minas Tirith." Arwen tried a smile to encourage and reassure her. "You wish to see Gondor, do you not?"

Penny gave her a weak smile in return, but Arwen could see by the expression in her face she was worried if she would even make it that far.

"Do not fear, Pen-ii. You are in the best hands."

Penny knew it, but she still could not stop a tear trickling down her face. The idea that they had even considered leaving her in this hellhole... She was so grateful they had decided against it that she really did not have the words to express it.

She drifted back into a fitful sleep. Her tent was the last to be dismantled so that she could rest and be in privacy until the last possible moment.

The barrels of Rohirric beer Eomer was sending Aragorn as a wedding gift were to be taken in a small cart. The barrels were securely lashed, and a space beside them was made that was big enough for Penny to lie down and one person to sit with her. The provisions that would have taken the space were easily loaded onto horses.

Penny had managed to take the jam and herb mixture, but it was clear a little later on that even if she was no longer vomiting, anything remotely solid was going straight through her. It was not a good sign. Elrond could only hope that they could keep her intake of fluids up and the diarrhoea would not last more than a few days or a week at maximum. Otherwise even his skill might not be enough.

Eomer and Eowyn came to see them off. Both wished Arwen well and hoped her marriage would be happy and blessed. Elladan and Elrohir were given warm farewells by many of the Horse lords before they were allowed to mount their steeds.

Penny was loaded up into the cart, barely able to walk but insisting on trying. Lindir and Celebdor had hold of her on either side and Mireth was waiting in the cart for her. Celebdor jumped up into the cart and grabbed hold of her as Lindir passed Penny up to him as if she were no more than a sack of wheat. Those Rohirrim who spotted it, especially the women, muttered darkly about strangers bringing disease into their midst and it being no bad thing she was leaving, just as Elrohir had suspected they might.

"If we all come down with contagion," carped one vicious fishwife, "we will know who to blame right enough."

Eowyn, overhearing one or two of the comments, made a point of going over to Penny to say she hoped she would get better soon.

"I am sorry we have not met properly before. Lord Elrond told us a little of your story. You were fortunate indeed to have been rescued by one as noble as a Dunadan, and then to be cared for by elves. You are in the best of hands, and I am sure such skilled healers as these will see you back on your feet once more. I had hoped to meet you last night, but alas you had left the meal before I had a chance to do so. Fare you well, fair maid. May the gods of the west smile upon you."

Penny barely understood a word, but smiled as graciously as she could, nodding while she struggled to keep her eyes open. Arwen noted Eowyn's slightly raised eyebrow and piercing look back towards a gaggle of sour looking women and realised what it had been about. Some of that infamous strength of spirit showing itself, she noted. She thanked her for her hospitality, and Eowyn thanked her in turn for the great service the elves had done their people.

"You have been here such a little time and yet achieved so much. We shall forever be in your debt."

"And all of Arda shall be in yours," Arwen murmured.

Eowyn said nothing though she knew Arwen was referring to. She rubbed at her newly healed left arm. A hint of sadness passed over her face as that moment of terrible horror was relived for an instant in her own head.

Arwen reached out a hand and touched her arm briefly, smiling gently. "We shall meet again soon. Fare you well till then. It has been an honour and a pleasure to meet you."

Eowyn smiled. "I too have been honoured and pleased to meet you, Lady Arwen. Truly."

Eomer made a small speech thanking the elves for the good they had done, saying Rohan had been truly blessed to have ones such as they walk among them. He had lavished gifts upon them the previous evening, giving them various weapons or artefacts showing the best of Rohirric craftsmanship. No doubt he was well aware they would be nothing more than curiosities to ones of such skill and artistry as elves. Even so, they had been warmly and gratefully received and the thanks of Elrond and the others had been sincere. Now Celeborn responded in kind, presenting Eomer with a truly splendid elvish sword as a gift by which the elves would forever consider him friend. Eomer inclined his head in gratitude, the pride in his face clear for all to see.

Then, at long last, the diplomatic formalities over with, they were off.

Jolted and bumped every now and then in the cart, Penny had no idea what lay ahead of her. She would have a hellish couple of days at least, but even if this did not kill her, how long would it last? Would she arrive in Minas Tirith still vomiting her guts up and unable to go more than an hour without rushing to the latrine? Would she even live to make it that far?

The cart hit another lump of grass, and Penny gasped as the vehicle bumped heavily over it.

"My apologies," Naurdir glanced round to Penny and Mireth. "I am trying to choose the flattest path, but there is little I can do at times."

"No matter, Naurdir, do not worry," Mireth smiled. She turned back to Penny. "Are you warm enough?"

Penny shivered and shook her head. Mireth pulled out another blanket from the little pile she was sitting on and laid it over Penny. "There. Try and rest. The moment you feel you need to relieve yourself then you must let me know. Do not feel shy. If we need to stop, we will stop no matter how frequently or where we might be."

Quite how the logistics of it would be managed in the wide open, flat, rolling countryside of Rohan, Penny had no idea. She was not sure she wanted to think about it.

Mireth put a flask to her lips and encouraged her to drink some of it. Penny recognised it as the herbal mixture they had already given her once in the early hours. It also contained something to help her sleep, though she little knew it, and she soon felt herself lulled into drowsiness, the gentle swaying of the cart as Naurdir managed to drive over some smoother ground helping also.

Mireth watched her friend as she drifted off to sleep. Then she looked up to see Eleniel riding alongside them, looking as worried as Mireth felt. The two exchanged a glance, unspoken concern passing between the two, yet they both knew that nothing could be done other than wait and see what fate had in store.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Those who say the Rohirrm make no mention of the Valar, Eru or anything akin to the belief and lore of the elves or Numenoreans forget the oath of Eorl (which Eomer renewed with Aragorn) which mentions both: _"And Cirion said: this oath will last for the remembrance of the glory of the land of the star and of the faith of Elendil the faithful. They shall keep it, those who sit on the thrones in the West, and the One who dwells above all thrones forever."_ see Unfinished Tales Yes, those are Cirion's words, but Eorl and subsequent Rohirric kings swore by them and made allegiance by them. There is little or no mention of religion in ANY of the peoples of Middle-earth (even the elves). However, that does not mean that the Rohirrim would not swear by such things or have some understanding, though it could be argued that any deep understanding on such matters was held by the elves alone, and possibly within Gondorian lore and Dunedain stories (thanks to their Numenorean heritage). Hence my having Eowyn hoping 'the gods of the west' would smile upon Penny and heal her. I left it vague since we have no idea what word (if any) the Rohirrim used for 'Valar'. It may be they used the same word or had their own – we do not know.

The berry/jam paste and herb mix is actually one I heard of on a food programme on BBC Radio 4. Unfortunately I cannot now remember the berry or the herb, but I think it was cranberry or redcurrant (though it could have been something else entirely), and something like thyme or sage. Anyway, the point was that both were excellent curatives but mixed together they acted to form a superb antibiotic that was particularly effective for food poisoning and stomach disorders.

And I have to say I was not sure whether to be amused or alarmed by the amount of people who thought she was pregnant. Yes, I know some of you were joking, but not all of you...


	20. I'm HAPPY

**Chapter 20 -** _"I'm H.A.P.P.Y."_

The next few days slipped past in a haze of discomfort for Penny.

Life in the cart was vile. All she wanted was to be able to lie as still as possible and sleep, but every movement reminded her she ached all over and felt desperately ill, despite Naurdir or Lindir's best efforts to direct the horses to smooth ground (it was invariably one or the other driving). Penny would lie there, bumping along, half out of it with weakness and the herbs she had been given. Snatches of song floated over her head or else Mireth or Eleniel chatted away to her about everything and nothing to try and take her mind off things and make the time pass by. Sometimes one of them would read to her – usually from one of her two books. In her more alert moments, Penny was aware of various people she knew walking or riding alongside and asking after her, but she was not much up to conversation.

Evenings were a great relief – when they were able to stop at last and she could curl up on her bedroll and finally rest at last (without being jolted awake by the cart rolling over a boulder or thudding down into a pothole). She stayed in her tent, too weak to move and feeling too unwell to make any attempt at being sociable. Mireth and Eleniel stayed with her most of the time, and Arwen on many occasions as well. Various people would come and visit, to chat or see how she was doing. Males did not stay for too long, but Galadriel was a fairly regular visitor chatting to Arwen and the others while Penny did her best to stay awake.

The ellith that usually shared their tent all found places elsewhere to rest for the next few days. Only Mireth, Eleniel and Arwen remained. Thus Penny could maintain some privacy. She had had to get over her shame simply because practicalities would not allow for anything else, and both Mireth and Eleniel in particular became almost matronly in their care of her, refusing to allow her to feel any embarrassment. (Though even Penny was aware of the fresh flowers and burning of scented oils at times, no matter how surreptitiously it was done). They went out of their way to make it seem as if all this was the most normal occurrence in the world for them both, and not revolting in the slightest.

She could not thank them enough.

'I am sorry' and 'thank you' quickly became her most overused phrases on the journey yet, easily outstripping 'bloody elves' by miles.

She ate very little for the first day or two. She did not feel hungry and refused anything other than the jam mixture twice a day and a spoonful of honey three times a day that was to remain her main curative (along with various herbal infusions and healing words). However, when the diarrhoea showed no signs of abating, they insisted she try to eat a little broth and bread as well, if only so her system had something to be dealing with.

She did not need to be told how important it was that she drank as much water as she felt she could cope with.

Her days and nights were filled with dozy fretfulness and a weakness and lethargy like nothing she had ever known. Penny was well aware how very ill she was, and how much trouble she was putting them all to.

"Will you _please_ stop apologising?" Eleniel laughed gently. "We are your friends, Pen-ii, and you have need of our skill. We are happy to be able to help you."

Penny and the three ellith were alone in the tent. Arwen was singing quietly to herself, sitting by the open tent flap and staring up at the stars. Mireth was sitting beside her, listening, with her head bowed. Eleniel had just fetched some water for Penny, for which Penny was thanking her.

Eleniel made to stand, presumably to join her friends, but Penny stopped her. "You have been so very kind to me, both you and Mireth, from that first day when I arrived in Imladris. I… I shall never forget it."

Eleniel said nothing, but smiled.

"I was so very lost and alone. I could not think of how I would bear being somewhere so different. Nothing was the same. Everything… I had to learn everything… I must have seemed so foolish to you both."

Eleniel was looking at her slightly more intently. She glanced up to see Mireth had turned her head a little, listening to Penny now instead of Arwen.

"Not foolish, no." Eleniel caught Mireth's gaze. "A little… strange, perhaps. Unusual."

Penny felt so weak she could not lift her head from the cloak wrapped under her head that served as a pillow. She nodded.

"I am from a culture very different to yours."

Mireth had turned round completely now. Eleniel smiled at Penny.

"I know."

"I do remember. I did not forget."

"Yes, I know. We had guessed."

"Your story is a strange one. We realised that a long time ago, Pen-ii." Mireth had come over to sit beside Eleniel. "We told you this in Lothlorien. Have you forgotten?"

"No. No, I had not forgotten. I just felt that I owed you an explanation."

Eleniel shook her head, the smile still not leaving her face. "There is no need for it, Pen-ii. Try and rest."

"But-"

"Eleniel is right. You must not launch into a great tale of your past now. You need to sleep and rest and get well, my friend." Mireth pulled up the blanket a little, making it clear she would accept no argument.

Arwen had stopped singing.

"Here, drink a little of this," Eleniel said as she held out a flask to Penny.

Penny drank and felt the familiar sleepiness overtake her.

By the end of the third day after they had left Rohan, Elrond was becoming concerned. Penny was aware she was getting weaker, and the slight look of anxiety that none of them could hide completely from their eyes told her everything she needed to know. When not in Penny's presence, Elrond looked grim indeed. The jam mixture and the honey were helping – the frequency and violence of the diarrhoea was slowly lessening at last – but if her body could not absorb more fluid more quickly, that success would be too little too late since it was clear the diarrhoea would continue for a good few days at least.

Penny knew she needed something to help her body absorb the fluids it needed. A half-memory was rattling around the back of her head from her student days – a cheap alternative to pharmacy-bought remedies someone had told her about once – but she could not bring it to the fore, could not put her finger on it. What the hell was it?

It was that night, as Mireth knelt down beside Penny's bedroll with a spoon and a jar of honey in her hands, that Penny had a lightbulb moment.

"Can I have that in water?" she asked just as Mireth put the spoon into the jar.

"If you wish," Mireth nodded. "So long as you have it, you may eat it how you choose."

"And add a little salt to it?"

Mireth looked at her, clearly a little puzzled by this request.

"Sugar and salt. Together. It helps the body soak up water inside." Trying to describe the digestive process in Sindarin was beyond Penny. "I am sure honey would work just as well as sugar."

Elrond looked intrigued, slightly sceptical, but not averse to the idea when Mireth came to him in his tent with Penny's request. He considered and then nodded slowly.

"If she thinks that will help, I have no objection. The effect of the water and the salt should not have any counter-effect on the honey for the purposes for which it is being given. Though," he paused for a moment. "I am not sure it will be at all pleasant to drink."

Within a day Elrond could sense this was helping her to replenish the loss of fluids, though a less trained eye might not have noticed a discernible difference. This, along with the positive (if slow) effect their own remedies were having on calming the stomach upset, meant he at last allowed himself to think the worst may be behind them, though it was still touch and go.

However, the next day Penny took a downturn and, after the improvement of the previous day, Elrond was mystified at first and a little worried. Penny seemed very out of sorts, moody and disinclined to talk to anyone at all. She slept for most of the day.

The following morning, Penny was pale, clearly in great discomfort and had stomach pains. Elrond was immediately very concerned, but once Mireth had quietly taken him to one side and explained, Elrond berated himself for not realising at once what was going on. Of course, with everything else, Penny had not thought to take any of the herbs Mireth had given her back in Imladris to help calm down her system a bit prior to a period.

Penny decided that having Mireth and Eleniel offer to wash out her period cloths for her was nearly as embarrassing as those moments when she had to call the cart to a sudden stop so she could rush frantically into the bushes (with Mireth running behind her armed with a water sac and a large sheet to screen Penny if she needed to be).

They brought her water (and, at her insistence, her soap) to her on her bedroll and she washed the cloths herself as best she could.

"I can manage!" she insisted, though it was clear she was struggling to find the energy to deal with it.

Mireth or Eleniel would then hang the cloths near a small fire outside their tent to dry. Just as had happened after they had left Lothlorien, a small gaggle of ellith sat round the fire so as to make it less obvious as to its primary purpose. Penny would come and sit or lie on a bedroll near the entrance so she could participate and feel included.

A week after they left Rohan, the diarrhoea seemed to finally be easing off at last. Penny was able to sit up in the cart and chat back for short periods at a time to those who came to amble or trot alongside to see how she was doing – a sure sign she was improving at last. She was still very weak. The illness had been very severe and it would be a while before she was back to full strength.

She was also able to take in a little of the countryside they were travelling through. She had always been aware of the mountains, looming large and cold to their right as they had journeyed. Their peaks seemed huge and, while they pretty much kept to the lowlands, following the line of the river, the land still undulated at times so that they had to wind round headlands or bends in the floodplain.

However, they had spent the previous day passing through the edge of a small wood, the shade of the trees providing a welcome break from the bright summer sun. As had happened on their journey south from Fangorn to Edoras, news of this large company of journeying elves had travelled to every village, farmstead and hamlet. Thus, the sight of children waving in the distance or small groups of adults coming to stare as they passed by was not unusual. But this day, as they had reached the wood's eastern edge, four armed men had stopped them and greeted them, bowing low and bidding them welcome.

"These are guards from the Halifirien beacon," Erestor had explained as he trotted alongside the cart. "This marks the spot where the land of Anórien begins."

So, they were in Gondor at last.

Several times more on their journey they would be greeted by one or two of the Gondorian guards who manned the staging posts below the beacons. It was at these spots that errand riders on their way from Gondor to Rohan could water their horses or change them for fresh ones if they were on an urgent mission. It was an indication that they were nearing their goal at last, and the very thought made Penny feel excited, in spite of her lethargy and tiredness.

On the seventh night of travelling, Celebdor helped Penny down from the cart and together, with Celebdor still supporting her, they made their way over to what was to become a small space in the middle of the tents. There Celebdor deposited her wrapped in her blankets and with her copy of Quenta Silmarillion, while he went to help setting up the last of the tents. She watched as Naurdir made preparations for supper, feeling slightly envious of the fact that most people would get a good hearty meal that night while she would be on the weak broth yet again.

An ellon was helping Naurdir organise food, opening baggages and taking out vegetables, bread and utensils. At one point he lifted out a jar which he seemed puzzled by, looking at it as if he had not seen it before. The jar was sealed with wax as well as a cork, so he was wary of opening.

"Naurdir, what is this? Is this needed for tonight?"

Naurdir looked up. "Ah, no, that was a parting gift from the Rohirrim." He considered. "Actually, they did say to leave it only a week, so it should be ready by now, whatever it is."

"So should I open it?"

"I think I should check with Elrond first. It was meant to be some kind of medicine or food for Lady Pen-ii here."

Penny blinked. "For me? What is it?"

"Horse's milk, I believe."

Penny wished she had not asked. "But why in Arda would they-?"

"Milk!" The ellon looked revolted. "But it will have gone bad in this heat, surely? And they wanted her to drink it after she has been so very ill?"

Naurdir shrugged, but it was clear he was in agreement. "Lord Elrond said to keep it. The Rohirrim said not to break the seal for a week."

Elrond was soon found and sent word that the jar could be opened and he would be along presently to inspect the contents. Naurdir sliced through the wax with a knife and then pulled out the large cork squinting inside the jar. He sniffed. The grimace on his face was priceless. He glanced at Penny.

"They said it would be good for your stomach, Pen-ii. Though I hardly think you are in any state to have milk just yet. Even if you were, this has gone rancid I fear. Though…" He sniffed once more. "It is not as bad as it should be; their sealing the jar with wax seems to have helped somewhat. It is curious."

"They could not have expected her to drink it straight away and yet now it is ruined!" the ellon protested.

Penny was torn between revulsion and curiosity. "Why would they insist it be left to go bad, Naurdir? It sounds disgusting."

"To let it ferment, I suppose. I have no idea. It was not cheese they were hoping to make by it, that much is clear. I would not suggest you try it, Pen-ii. You are recovering at long last, and that is good to see. I would not want you to become ill again. It is not worth the risk."

"Can I see?"

She held out her hand to Naurdir, who shrugged and walked over to her, handing her the pot. Penny inspected the contents. She sniffed.

It was a bit ripe but not so bad. In fact, now she looked at it and smelt it, it seemed much like very cheesy yoghurt. Yoghurt was terribly good for you, especially for the stomach. In fact the only thing putting her off now was the knowledge it was made from horse's milk. But then Mongolian herdsmen had a near total reliance on horses, including making a fiercely alcoholic brew from horse milk, didn't they? She had seen it in a TV documentary once. Amazing what you could learn at three in morning when you had an attack of insomnia. Anyway, she thought, she had had eight months of getting used to cultures radically different from her own, so what was a little horse milk? Darn sight better than sheep's testicles or hearts stuffed with kidneys or half a dozen other things she had been presented with so far.

She tipped the jar and gingerly stuck a finger inside.

"Pen-ii, no! Lord Elrond will have my hide!" Naurdir looked alarmed.

It was too late: Penny already had her finger in her mouth. It was not quite what she had expected. It was sourer than yoghurt but not a dissimilar texture, though it needed stirring since it had separated a little. A little bit of honey or jam and it would be quite pleasant.

"Let me have that back. I really think we should get rid of this-"

"No, no! I want to eat it. It's good. Well… it needs a little sweetening, perhaps, but-"

"Pen-ii, you cannot have milk just yet and it has been sitting in the heat for all this time. I really do not think-"

"Naurdir, this is good for me. The Rohirrim said so and I agree."

"With all my respect to the Rohirrim, I think we elves know better what is good for-"

"Where I come from we say this stuff is very good. Gives you long life." Naurdir raised a very sceptical eyebrow at that comment. "Makes you healthy. Good for your stomach."

"Indeed?" Elrond's voice cut across before Naudir could respond. He wandered over to where they had been gently bickering. He smiled. "It is so gratifying when you have these brief recollections of your past, Pen-ii. That is wonderful." Penny knew that comment was for Naurdir's benefit. "So what is this thing that the Rohirrim have given us and you seem to find familiar?"

Penny held out the pot to him. "Yoghurt."

Elrond blinked. "Iogget?"

Penny nodded. "Yes, that is what we call it in my tongue and that is what this is. Or at least it is very like it. Not quite the same, perhaps. We make it from cow's milk and it is sweeter, but this is very similar. I am sure it would have the same effect."

"I am not sure your stomach could bear it, Pen-ii," Elrond replied hesitantly, taking the pot from her and peering at the contents. "I have heard of such a thing – this thickened, fermented milk. It is like curds and yet not nearly so sour. It is why I insisted Naurdir keep it since I was undecided as to whether to allow you to have this or not. The Rohirrim do have some wisdom in their methods, after all. I remember Estel telling me of people in the East who eat something like this as part of their everyday diet, and a little south of Dol Amroth also."

"Well, it will not keep much longer," Penny looked at him. "Do you think I could…?" She trailed off.

"Take a very little this evening and see how you fare. Only a very small amount, mind. If it does not make you ill once more, then you may finish it tomorrow."

Thus the following morning Penny had yoghurt for breakfast mixed with a little honey. Rhimlath looked particularly unimpressed.

"Do I want to know?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow at Penny's bowl.

"Not if you're going to be dismissive and rude about it, no."

Rhimlath's second eyebrow joined his first somewhere up near his hairline. "I see."

Penny ignored him.

Penny grew progressively stronger, though she had aches in her joints on occasion – clearly an after-effect of whatever bug it was that she had had – and her recovery was slow. She had lost quite a bit of weight and looked pale and gaunt. She continued with the honey and herbal infusions, but she no longer needed to have the revolting jam concoction (for which she was truly grateful). The other ellith all returned to her tent now she was slowly on the mend. She still travelled on the cart for the time being, though. She was not up to walking for anything more than five minutes at a time and at least in the cart she could lie down if she needed to.

Ten days after leaving Edoras, the weather was much as it always was: a blue sky with the occasional bright white cloud drifting above them. As the morning grew on, the occasional copses they passed through on the road melded one into the other. By early afternoon they were entirely surrounded by trees: they had reached the forest of the Drúadan.

However, within a few hours they had passed out into countryside once more, and it was clear they were not going to pass through the wood, rather that the road swung out to the north and looped round the forest in a great, wide swerve before bending back round to the south and towards Minas Tirith.

It was getting towards dusk. Penny had decided to stretch her legs a little and was walking near the cart, listening to Mireth and Rhimlath chattering away as the trees disappeared on either side of them and the forest sat dark and gloomy to their right. She was so absorbed that she did not look around her at first, and it was a little while, as the conversation ended and someone a little way ahead of them started singing, before she looked up and took note of the change in scenery.

It was only then that she saw, straight ahead of her, a long line of dark mountains that ran along the horizon from north to south. For several minutes she said nothing, merely stared as if unable to process quite what she was looking at.

They seemed so… _ordinary_.

Penny blinked.

It was just a line of bog-standard mountains. Nothing especially odd about them in the slightest. She felt no fear looking at them: there was no glowering menace about them. Admittedly, there was no filthy black cloud lying over them these days and no great evil menace holed up within, but even so she had expected to sense _something_.

That said, of course, she wondered if they would not have seemed very menacing indeed even just four months ago.

The weight of history in her mind made up for the ordinary look of them, though. Her imagination quickly supplied what her immediate impression had lacked. She had so many stories racing through her head at that moment, and not just the ones she had arrived in Middle-earth already knowing. Elrond and Erestor had answered her questions about the Battle of the Last Alliance, though it had been clear some of the memories had been a little painful even for them to recount at times. She wondered how they must feel, how the any of them must feel, to be so close to this place once more, even if Sauron was now gone and any threat from it was over at long last.

She finally looked about her. Elves were still singing, many chatting as if nothing untoward had occurred, but Erestor and Glorfindel, riding a little way behind her saw her look, caught her eye and furrowed their brows a little. She stood still and let them catch her up and, when they had done so, she pointed.

"Mordor," she said simply. What else was there to say?

They nodded, their faces slightly grim as she said the name. They continued in silence and Penny noticed she was now not the only one to glance towards the mountains on occasion.

That night, even though darkness had fallen, she could not help staring in the direction of that blighted land.

"It is strange to be so near to it at last, is it not?" Mireth said, following Penny's gaze.

"Yes. I cannot get it out of my head, and yet… when I saw the mountains they seemed so unremarkable."

"But the weight of dark years lies upon them. From this distance, perhaps, but I am sure if you were to get closer…"

Mireth did not finish her sentence. Penny did not doubt there were still dark things living there and, even if they were not, it was an evil place full of malice. She remembered that feeling of pure terror she had sensed from Gandalf, his quiet voice rumbling away in her head, when he had spoken of the threat Sauron posed, of the darkness that had been potentially about to engulf them all. She shuddered involuntarily.

"He is laid low at last," Rhimlath murmured. "All was not in vain, no matter how many were lost."

"You were there?"

Rhimlath nodded, then turned slightly to stare into the night towards Mordor. He was only roused out of his reverie by someone singing a ballad of Gil-galad. Penny could see from several of the faces in the flickering firelight that Rhimlath was not alone in reliving memories of a dark and distant hour. Elrond was staring into the flames of the campfire, Arwen leaning up against him, her head on his shoulder as she listened to the song.

Penny wondered why Elrond had refused to take on the role of High King once Gil-galad had fallen. By his lineage he had had every right to accept it. Had the loss of Gil-galad been too great a blow?

"Times change. Our time has been waning for long years, Lady Pen-ii, I know you know this." Galadriel, walking past, had stopped in front of Penny and was looking at her, her head tilted slightly to one side, a faint smile on her face almost as if she seemed amused. "Lord Elrond was under no obligation. Besides there were so many of us who had already sailed West by then… or died."

Elrond had glanced in their direction at the mention of his name.

"It is nothing, Elrond. Penny is thinking over our history, that is all. She is no different from any of us, perhaps, this night. Many of us that lived through it have never forgotten, but to be once more in the sight of where so much was lost-"

"Yet you won. You had peace for long years afterwards."

"True. But he returned. Even without the Ring he became powerful once more."

"Not to full strength. And he is defeated at last."

"And so our time ends, Pen-ii. We will leave, and Arda will not know our light again."

It was a terribly depressing thought to go to bed on. 'Thanks for that, Galadriel,' Penny thought to herself bitterly as she settled down under her blanket.

It was something she didn't really like to think about too hard. She knew Elrond had made it clear she could stay in Imladris if she so wished, but he would be gone in a little over two years. His sons would stay, of course, but for how long? Forever? Or just a few years? It was all very well her wanting to stay in Imladris, but she may not, in reality, have that option.

And now Minas Tirith, the only other alternative, was literally only round the corner.

That night there had been a distant rumbling from the direction of the forest on and off, almost as if there was a thunder storm up in the nearby White Mountains. The elves had seemed entirely unconcerned by it, though Penny had had no doubt they could all hear it better than she could. Though she had known there was no reason to fear – the Drúedain were friends not foe, and surrounded by this many warrior elves she was well protected even if they were not –it had still given her a slight shiver, an eerie frisson running through her as she listened to the wild men communicating through the wood.

During the next couple of days, though, the forest was silent as they slowly followed the curve of the road inexorably to the east and then the south-east. For the rest of the journey till they reached Minas Tirith, Penny would remain far more aware of that dark line of distant mountains than she was of the far nearer, looming peaks of the White Mountains to her right. The Mountains of Shadow would occasionally be screened from view by a copse or hedges or else as the road sloped gently into a hollow, but even then they were always in her mind's eye.

It was faintly bizarre and entirely her own imagination's doing, but she could not stop it for all that she tried to reason with herself.

Then at last, nearly two weeks after leaving Edoras, they passed by the hill of Amon Dîn and made camp just to the East of it under the eaves of the grey wood.

Orcs had been here. It was obvious even to Penny. Many of the trees had been burnt, several felled so there were only rough-hewn stumps, and the ground was littered with debris – split branches and old meat bones. Much like the edges of Lothlorien, grass and flowers were quickly reclaiming these scars and covering them over, but it was a stark reminder of the vicious battle that had taken place not so very far from here.

Penny was warned not to wander off into the woods.

"I am sure they will have scoured the area for fallen weapons, but it is always possible one small blade was missed. Better you leave it to rot in the dirt than you are cut unwittingly by a poisoned or cursed dagger."

Penny blinked at Celebdor for a moment. She knew he was being perfectly serious, but it was still probably one of the weirdest things anyone had ever said to her.

That night as they sat around the camp fire, there was a sense of impending excitement about them all. It was a contrast to the slightly dark brooding of only a few nights before, but here the singing, while not exactly raucous, was certainly very jolly. There was even impromptu dancing at one point. Penny was dragged to her feet by Lindir who spun her round a few times before she insisted she really had to sit down. He realised it had probably been an unwise move on his part to keep her dancing for so long and helped her back to the edges of the crowd so she could sit next to Eleniel.

"It's ridiculous! I have no energy. The slightest thing tires me!"

"It is to be expected," Eleniel said quietly. "And you managed an entire dance, Pen-ii, which I would hardly call a 'slight thing', even if it was a little rash."

"Lindir hardly gave me a choice, Eleniel."

She laughed. "True."

Of course, tomorrow was Midsummer's Eve and tomorrow they would reach Minas Tirith. The ellyn had washed the previous evening and a great effort had been made to find a suitable spot for the ellyth to bathe this evening. Everyone had got out fresh clothes for the following day – most of them amongst their finest, so as to make the best impression on arrival.

Then the day after that, Arwen would finally meet her destiny and her fate: a wedding, the joining of two great royal lines – so no wonder the elves were in a party mood. Even Elrond joined in, joking and even having a dance or two with his mother-in-law. Penny wondered if he was truly at ease. He had had long years to come to terms with it, but it must still be a terrible moment for him. If it was, though, he was not showing it.

It all went on late into the night. There was quite a bit of wine flowing too. Penny eventually left them to it and fell asleep to the sound of laughter and singing, wondering what Gondor would hold in store for her.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Honey is considered an excellent curative for many illnesses in many cultures. It is particularly prized for its effectiveness on stomach upsets in the Middle East.

Sugar (or honey) and salt (only a small amount of each in a glass of water) is a curative to help the body absorb water more easily – a necessary thing for someone with severe diarrhoea, since it's the dehydration that kills. It is the equivalent of things like 'Dioralyte' or similar products (though not as effective, perhaps, but it does the job). I had remembered this, but if I had not, then would have had my memory jogged by the many who pointed it out in reviews of the last chapter. Thank you all.

Yoghurt, with the live bacteria it contains, is known to be very efficacious, especially in replenishing the bacteria that naturally live in the gut and can be flushed out during a particularly severe attack of stomach flu or food poisoning. (Thanks to MumstheWord for reminding me of that fact).


	21. The Shield of Achilles

My thanks, as ever, to all those taking the time to read and those who review, pass on con crit or generally let me know what they think. Much appreciated, guys. Apologies if there's been a slight delay in posting - RL, etc. To make up for it this is a very long chapter (which could have been a darn sight longer, frankly, but I chopped off a lot of what I had and saved it for next time).**  
**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 21** - _The Shield of Achilles_

What time the others finally came to the tent for some rest, Penny had no idea. They were all up extremely early, however, and a giddy hubbub of chattering and giggling filled the air as everyone either packed or fussed over Arwen.

Arwen could not stop smiling. It was obvious everyone's attention and reminders of what was to come were making her excited and nervous. She had tried three times (and failed) to put her scented oils in a little leather pouch. She sat down on her bedroll, breathing out slowly as if trying to calm herself.

"Just imagine, by tomorrow night you'll be-"

"Yes, and by tomorrow _night_ she'll be-"

There were outraged gasps and hysterical giggling. Arwen flushed a deep red and tried to look appalled.

"Forgive me," muttered the elleth responsible, biting her lips and attempting to look contrite.

She was an old friend of Arwen's from Lothlorien and the two were very close in age. The elleth and Arwen looked at each other for a moment or two before Arwen burst into laughter and her friend joined her, running across the tent to embrace her.

"Oh, you will take to married life very well, I am sure. You adore Estel too much not to."

"Ai, can we please stop talking about it? I am so full of nerves I can hardly keep my wits about me."

"Shall we braid your hair? Mireth should be back any second."

Indeed a few moments later Mireth entered the tent with a posy of wild flowers and some trails of greenery.

"Celebdor shepherded me all the way," she smiled. "He worries far too much."

"Not without reason, Mireth," Arwen replied. "There could very easily be blades somewhere in the long grass that lie hidden from view."

"I know." She held up the flowers. "Will these be enough, do you think?"

"Oh, we only need a few, I think," Eleniel replied.

They set to work: twisting the small, delicate flowers into Arwen's hair as they put just a few thin plaits in it to keep it all back off her face. It was much like an elvish version of a slumber party, Penny decided. Except that it was the morning, they were not wearing pyjamas and it was only one of them that was getting the make-over. There was much gossiping over what Gondor would be like, whether the men would be a patch on any ellon and how Arwen would take to life in Minas Tirith.

Arwen looked astonishing by the time they had finished. She wore a circlet of finely twisted mithril thread dotted with cut diamonds that made it look like she had stars sprinkled across her brow and into her hair. She had a dress that looked white in some lights but was actually a very pale blue, with fine mithril embroidery along the hem, neck and sleeves. It was simple and yet beautifully elegant in a way that only elvish seamstresses were capable of. Mireth had managed to find some little pale white flowers shot with blue that matched it perfectly.

During breakfast, even as the awnings were being dismantled and packed away, two men in Gondorian dress came out of Elrond's tent, bowed to him and then left hurriedly to mount their horses. They set off at a gallop southwards towards Minas Tirith: messengers to let Aragorn know Arwen would arrive later that day.

Not long afterwards, the wedding party set off behind them, though at a far slower pace. Everyone had on fresh clothes, many with circlets on their heads or flowers in their hair, their clothes or their brows studded with gems. These usually 'merely beautiful' elves were now looking indescribably stunning. Bunched all together in a pack like this, it was almost too much to take. Penny focused very hard on the scenery as they travelled because otherwise she was constantly reminded that her pale green dress and travel-worn slippers seemed terribly down-at-heel by comparison.

Penny was not in the cart today. That was loaded up with as much baggage as could be squeezed into the space next to the barrels so as many people as possible could be mounted on horses. Penny was glad to be back in the saddle again and felt strong enough to be able to cope with it, though she did not doubt she would feel exhausted by evening.

It was the first time they had travelled in a coordinated formation (other than scouts ahead or ellyn travelling up and down the line or bringing up the rear for safety reasons).

Leading the party were Elladan and Elrohir, carrying for the first time an unfurled silver banner. It was shot through with so much mithril thread that it gleamed in the bright morning sun and was nearly blinding if you caught sight of it from the wrong angle. Penny was surprised it could bend at all, there was that much metal in it. The brothers took turns throughout the day to carry it.

As everyone milled around, getting themselves ready for the off, some horsed, others loading up bags, Penny stopped beside Elrohir, shielding her eyes from the glare of the banner to study the jewel on his brow. Elladan was wearing a matching one. Elrohir glanced down at her and smiled, clearly wondering what she was staring at.

"Are those the same ones that you both wore on the Pelennor? When you came off the ships?"

Elrohir nodded, his smile broadening.

Elladan, overhearing, leant forward a little on his stallion to see past his brother to Penny, his gaze curious and a little amused.

"Oh, so we do get a passing mention, then?"

"On occasion, Elladan, on occasion." She grinned and wandered up the line to join the others.

Behind the brothers, and leading all those from Imladris, were Erestor and Glorfindel. This group, of course, would include Penny who rode in between Lindir and Eleniel for most of the day.

Next came Galadriel and Celeborn, followed by the Galadhrim with the most noble of their advisors near the front.

Finally, Arwen and Elrond brought up the rear (along with a few outriders, of course, though once past the Rammas Echor they would trot forward and rejoin the rest). Elrond was dressed nearly as splendidly as his daughter, in a tunic of richly brocaded dark blue velvet and a bright circlet on his head. He held a silver and bejewelled sceptre in his hand, and rode the entire day with it in his lap.

This, then, was the elves at their most glorious and splendid. Everything was designed not simply for the inhabitants of Minas Tirith, but for all of Gondor to see that their future queen came from an ancient and noble stock as the wedding party rode through the Pelennor.

Penny thought it was a fantastic piece of PR, one of the best she had ever seen, in fact. Then she scolded herself for being cynical, but still could not help but snigger a little.

As they rode through the countryside towards the Pelennor, the evidence of the northern encampment of orcs and foes became even more apparent than what they had seen near the Grey Wood. Entire small copses had gone – groups of charred stumps being all that remained. They occasionally caught sight of ruins of a house or farm in the distance. Penny just hoped whoever had lived in these places had had the sense to follow the decree and leave to the southlands or Minas Tirith before the rampaging hordes had arrived.

There were also several large mounds of earth, which the grass seemed to be avoiding completely. Near to these were areas of blackened earth that the grass was also struggling to reclaim. They were not near the road but were grouped together in a clump about a mile away from the Rammas Echor. Penny stared at them, wondering what on earth they could be. Lindir leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I imagine they are burial pits for the enemy, Pen-ii."

She turned to stare at him, at once horrified and shocked.

"What else would you have them do with so many dead?" He almost laughed grimly at her reaction. "They could not leave them to rot, fouling the air with contagion and stink. And you could hardly reasonably expect them to bury them within the confines of the Pelennor. Bad enough that their filthy carcasses will rot into Gondorian earth without them staying within their walls to boot!"

She knew he was right, but it was still chilling to look back at the mounds of earth and now know what was underneath them. The burned areas took on a very sinister tone now as well. But then, they had had umpteen oliphaunt carcasses to dispose of. Burning would be easier than anything else, she supposed.

Even so…

She gave an involuntary shudder and turned away.

The gate on the Pelennor was reached around midday. The Rammas Echor loomed huge on the horizon, stretching for miles on either side, even before they were up close to it. Penny had not really fully appreciated the scale of it before either when reading the books or from the few maps she had seen in Imladris. The wall was a good fourteen foot high, at least.

There was rebuilding going on – whole sections had been demolished, and scaffolding was visible here and there, with labourers going about their business. They all stopped to stare, though, as the elves drew near, many shouting to their comrades and pointing in the wedding party's direction. A few even started wandering towards them, clearly wanting to come and get a better look.

The party halted.

Elladan and Elrohir rode forward, proclaiming loudly who they were (with full lineage and honours, including fighting for Gondor in the fall of Sauron), who rode with them, which elven realms, races and lineages were represented amongst them, and finally declaring the purpose of their request for entry: that Lord Elrond of Imladris had consented to bring his daughter to King Elessar to be his bride and the future Queen of Gondor.

Of course this was all in Westron. Eleniel busily whispered a translation to Penny who, for very obvious reasons, had been in no fit state to improve her Westron since Rohan, despite Erestor's good intentions.

There was a brief silence, the only sounds those of the elvish banner held by Elrohir and the white Gondorian ones on the gate towers flapping slightly in the breeze. Not even the on-lookers were saying anything, all agog with awe as they were at the scene.

A tall, dark-haired man stepped forward from the gate and bowed his head, his hand across his breast by way of greeting. He introduced himself as Ingold, Captain of the Northern Gate. (Penny gave a little gasp and a grin as this was translated to which Lindir raised an eyebrow.) He bade them welcome in the name of the King, then said they were most honoured guests and that their arrival had been expected. "You may pass and go in peace," he added.

The guards did a very good job of trying to look expressionless and professional as the elves rode past. However, given the extraordinary effect this many elves all together had had on the Rohirrim, and that was without them all dressed to the nines as they were today, it was a bit much to expect the Gondorians to behave any differently. Penny had to bite her cheeks at the slightly goggle-eyed expressions and slackness around the jaws that the guards and workmen had about them.

The Pelennor was huge. At their slow walking pace it would take them the afternoon to cross it. The mountains to their right faded into foothills and rolling slopes down to the east where, lost in the distance were the wall, then Osgiliath and the river. Minas Tirith was hidden at first, the road undulating over and round the soft curves of the land. There were trees along the line of the road and dotted here and there. There was also evidence of wanton destruction, though whether deliberate or simply through accident in battle, it was hard to say.

Only an hour or so after a long, leisurely stop for lunch, they came across the first of what had been the massive ring ditches dug by the enemy. The pits had been filled in, but the grass had only grown over them sparsely as yet. The backfill was sunken in places or else heaped high in ridges in others, so they could be clearly made out. From then on the scars of war became more and more evident

There was barely a building left standing in some parts. The enemy had entertained itself with wanton destruction as it had made its way across the fields towards the city and so barns, granaries, oasts for drying out hops and herbs - let alone the occasional, solitary farmhouses and cottages - had nearly all been ravaged by fires. The few that had escaped such attention had invariably been hit by missiles from siege engines during the battle or else had had an oliphaunt career into them.

However, many of these structures were stone built, so it was simply a case of retimbering and rethatching the roofs of those merely burnt out or with a hole in the roof. Work had already started on several, with a few rough-looking wooden shacks hastily assembled to house families currently homeless and which would later be used to house animals. There was little hope of saving the buildings that had taken a direct hit from an irate oliphaunt, though. These had been entirely demolished and were now nothing more than heaps of rubble.

Whole patches of earth had been scorched where once orchards or vineyards had stood. Trees had been cut down, left charred by fire or entirely uprooted. Some of the latter were in the process of being cut up to be cleared or used as building materials or firewood.

It was an indication of how much destruction had been wrought that its marks were still so visible.

Not all was destroyed. Much was still green and still standing. Patches of the Pelennor had remained relatively untouched by long-term destruction, even if it had known the thunder of hooves, the foul invasion of orcish hordes or had soaked up the blood of many. It was clear much work had already been done. Many destroyed trees, hedgerows and vegetation had been cleared, though there was still a lot more to do. As the wedding party slowly made its way across the Pelennor, sometimes a few men and women were to be seen clearing or tilling the soil as best they could, hoping to try and start anew in the autumn.

They were still some miles distant when Penny saw a flash in the distance to the south. It had come from high up on top of a massive outcrop of rock that near enough seemed to be almost a part of the mountain behind it, the last in the chain that rose huge and imposing to their right. If she had not known any better, Penny would have dismissed it as a mere rocky foothill: a last, stony 'gasp' before the mountain chain came to an abrupt halt.

From the murmurs and pointing around her, however, Penny knew the elves could see something else clearly enough, and she also knew what it was without being told. It was not long before she too could just make it out: the Tower of Ecthelion - a barely visible, thin, white line and its roof shining brightly like a lighthouse stark against the dark mountain cliff behind it.

She felt her heart leap to her throat with excitement.

As was to be expected, their passage across the Pelennor attracted much attention, perhaps even more than in Rohan as no doubt the purpose of their journey had preceded them with the messengers or else from the gates. As they neared the city, more and more people lined the way, cheering, shouting greetings, but mostly staring in awe. A few children ran alongside every now and then, though most were quickly stopped by the adults with them, though out of respect rather than fear.

Minas Tirith, once they were near enough for Penny to see it clearly, was astonishing.

The outer walls loomed dark and tall, sheer and polished like glass. For all the blasting they had taken in the siege, the walls had held firm, even if the city behind them had burned. Tier upon tier the city rose, like some glorious wedding cake, until at last the eye fell upon the astonishing pinnacle of white at the top, its banners flapping in the breeze and the roof gleaming gold with the late afternoon sun.

They were still some distance away when they could hear the cheering coming from within the city. Then, as they neared, they could make out people lining the walls and, in a slightly bizarre moment, Penny realised that somewhere up on the upper walls the hobbits would be watching their approach. She found herself squinting upwards as if willing herself to be able to see them, as ridiculously impossible as she knew it would be.

Meanwhile, men, women and children were running out of the city to meet them till the roadsides were two or three people deep. People were singing, shouting, throwing flowers… It was like being part of a parade. Penny was just waiting for the brass band to appear and the ticker-tape to start.

Through it all the elves sat tall and straight. (No one was walking now since, for quite some time now, everyone had been horsed, even if it meant some were riding two to an animal - the 'Elrond PR Machine' would stop at nothing, so it would seem.) They smiled at the crowd warmly enough but also with an air of refined dignity, as if such a welcome was only to be expected, that it was only their due, after all. Penny turned round, trying to see Rhimlath somewhere amongst the Galadhrim, because she knew he would be looking about the most smugly arrogant of them all right about now.

Dusk was drawing in as they finally reached the city gates (or rather 'the gap in the walls where the gates used to be'). The western skies high above the White Mountains still glowed orange, but to the East the first early stars already pricked the sky.

There, ahead of them and in front of the rough wooden barrier that served as a temporary gate (of sorts), was the welcoming committee.

Penny could just make out the hobbits, Pippin looking particularly splendid in his dark guard's uniform. With them were two Dúnedain (as ever dressed in simple dark greys and browns), both of whom seemed vaguely familiar to Penny and she guessed must have been part of the gathering at Imladris before they had headed south. There were three more guards of the Citadel along with Pippin. Legolas and Gimli, smiling broadly, were on either side of Sam and Frodo and there were various other well-dressed men whom Penny assumed to be various Gondorian notables and officials. Gandalf, dressed in white and leaning on his staff, was standing next to a tall, nobly handsome man in sumptuous clothes whom Penny did not recognise immediately.

It was only as the horses slowed, the Gondorian trumpeters blew a loud, long welcome from the walls, and Elladan and Elrohir both dismounted and then bowed to this man that Penny realised it was Aragorn or rather 'King Elessar' in all his glory.

There was no better way to describe him. He was utterly different. He seemed taller, broader in the shoulder, and had a presence about him that exuded confidence, power and something utterly indefinable that had Penny staring at him for a few moments in astonishment and awe.

So this was what the Numenoreans had been like, she found herself musing. _This_ was a king… and then some.

There was a faintly surreal air to the formality of Elladan and Elrohir's greeting, since it was clear both brothers would have liked nothing better than to embrace Aragorn warmly, grinning widely as they were. However, they restrained themselves to a similarly courtly speech as they had given back at the gate entrance to the Pelennor declaring who they all were and why they were come.

A dark-haired man standing next to Aragorn took a step forward, bowed slightly with one arm across his breast and then welcomed them to Gondor on behalf of the King. He spoke in excellent Sindarin. He looked very like his brother, if a little thinner in the jaw, perhaps, and it was clear enough who he was without Penny having to be told. Something about him reminded her nearly as much of a Dunadan, though, and she could see what was meant when it was said the Numenorean line ran nearly true in him where it had not in Boromir.

Then, and only then did the elves begin to dismount, Penny following their lead. The only ones who did not were Elrond and Arwen who rode forward through the gap the others had left for them. With his sons on either side of them both, and with Elladan still holding the silver banner, Elrond dismounted then held out his hand for Arwen as she slid elegantly off her grey mare. Then, keeping her hand in his, he walked towards Aragorn and halted in front of him.

"The hour long awaited is here at last, King Elessar. Many years ago by the counting of men did I name you 'Estel', and that was no light decision on my part. Your destiny is fulfilled, and I am glad to see it done. I now bring you, as is your right, the Sceptre of Annúminas, sceptre of the Lords of Andúnië and then the Kings of Arnor. It is yours to wield now this hour has come."

He held out the silver sceptre he had carried with him all day. Aragorn took it from him in proud silence.

"Thus are the lands of Gondor and Arnor reunited once more under one King, as it was foreseen and foretold would come to pass." Elrond paused for a moment and then, glancing at Arwen, smiled. "I have also brought to you an even richer gift. Little is worth more to an elf than their own children, as is known. Elessar, King of the Reunited Kingdom, Envinyatar, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur and Chieftain of the Dúnedain, I have brought you my daughter, Arwen Undomiel, fairest of ellith, to be your bride. This I promised you I would grant if ever we should live to see such a time. Let it be known that Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Imladris, son of Eärendil the Blessed, has kept his word this day."

So saying, Elrond took Arwen's hand and placed it in Aragorn's.

"May Illúvatar bless your union and may Elbereth smile upon it. May Arda know peace at last under your rule."

Aragorn smiled so warmly and tenderly on Arwen as Elrond spoke that he looked fit to burst. Then he slowly inclined his head, not taking his eyes off her once, and kissed the back of her hand.

The crowd cheered loudly – both mortals and elves together – and the trumpets sounded once more from on top of the walls.

As Celeborn, Galadriel, Erestor, Glorfindel and others now made their formal greetings to Aragorn, and others were welcomed by Gandalf and those of the Fellowship who recognised elves they knew, servants rushed forward to help with bags and baggage. Penny felt very shy at having a young boy insisting he take her saddle bag for her.

"I can manage," she was saying in Sindarin, though the boy did not understand her.

"Let him take it," Lindir laughed. "Let him be a part of all this, if he wishes."

"But Lindir-"

The decision was made for her as the boy, no more than twelve or so, literally pulled the thing out of her hands, swung it over his shoulder, and then stood there expectantly, a grin on his face, waiting for them to get moving. He filled the delay with satisfying his curiosity and examining Lindir closely, staring at him nearly unblinkingly and following his every move.

"You would have thought they had never seen an ellon before," Lindir muttered.

"Well, they have only seen three," Penny pointed out. "And to have so many of you all together like this is quite a sight, you have to admit."

"Wrong answer, Pen-ii," Eleniel muttered in her ear. "You are meant to say 'they have never seen as handsome and well-dressed an ellon as you before, Lindir.' Ellyn pride themselves on their appearance, after all."

"Ohhh! But of course. My apologies, Lindir." Penny smirked.

"Though of course what Eleniel really means to say is 'they have never seen an ellon who has such appalling taste in boots and who will insist on wearing old-fashioned braids in his hair'." Rhimlath had wandered up to join them.

Lindir narrowed his eyes at Rhimlath and shook his head, laughing. "There is nothing wrong with my boots, as you well know!"

"Yes, what is wrong with his boots?" Eleniel seemed confused.

"Too long in the toe for Galadhrim tastes, apparently" Lindir replied sourly.

"Perhaps you just have big feet?" Penny suggested.

Rhimlath, Eleniel and the others round them roared with laughter as Lindir spluttered in outrage.

"You see one is also slightly higher on the leg than the other." Rhimlath pointed out once he had recovered himself.

"Nonsense!" Lindir retorted.

Eleniel squinted. "Well… perhaps a little."

Lindir glared at her. "I made them myself," he declared hotly.

"Yes, so you said to me over breakfast," Rhimlath continued blithely. "For all your skill as a song-smith or horseman, you are clearly no cobbler, my friend."

Penny laughed out loud. "Elves not perfect in everything they set their minds to? For shame, Lindir! You are putting the good name of elves into disrepute!"

"Lady Pen-ii!" an excited voice called out to her. Penny turned and saw Sam and Merry waving at her. She smiled and waved back. They could not come over and talk. As important figures within their own right, they were officially part of the welcoming proceedings, and were already being beckoned by Faramir to join the party behind Aragorn and Arwen.

Aragorn and Arwen, still hand in hand, were to lead the walk through the entrance way and up the winding road through the city. Behind them were Elrond, his sons, Galadriel, Celeborn, Gandalf, the other members of the Fellowship, Faramir and other Gondorian and elvish nobles. The rest followed on behind. Everyone was on foot, since most of the horses would be stabled in the lowest circle, with only a few housed in the stable on the sixth circle. Those horses were loaded with baggage to make some of the servants' work a little easier.

Penny was happy they were walking since she wanted to savour every moment of this.

There was a gap just large enough for a cart to pass through in the barrier and that led them into a large square behind it. Straight ahead of them was the base of the huge pinnacle of rock that towered upwards all the way to the seventh circle. Penny craned her neck upwards, impressed at the scale of it even in the quickening dark.

Indeed the dark made it difficult to see very much of the city. Many in the crowd held torches or walked along with them, lighting the way, and nearly all the inhabited houses had their doors and windows open, with light pouring out onto the paved street below, as people watched as they passed by. Even so, all this only lit the immediate vicinity of the road and the walls of the houses, and merely with a flickering, yellow light that gave everything an indistinct, ruddy glow. From what she could see, it was clear this place was like nothing Penny had yet experienced in Middle-earth. There was a part of her that, despite knowing how very different this place would be, felt strangely at home to be once more surrounded by brick and stone and buildings. She was a city girl at heart, after all.

They passed by gates that opened into little courtyards and doors with family names inscribed in the lintels above them. Dogs ran barking up and down the street, small babies were held on shoulders to see the spectacle, and everywhere there was cheering, singing and hallooing to greet the would-be queen and her people.

Penny was looking right and left, peering into every dark corner with a thrill of excitement at being finally on the streets of Minas Tirith. Even in the dark, though, she could see there were many women who stood alone or in groups, some with young children with them and no menfolk beside them. There were also several men on crutches, bandaged or carrying terrible scars. These latter hung back, attempting to stay out of sight, but unable to resist seeing the procession through the city. No matter how much they tried not to be seen, ashamed perhaps of their disfigurements in the sight of such splendid beauty, Penny caught sight of them now and then. Nor was she the only one. Several times she noticed an elf smile or nod to one of these figures, eliciting a faint smile in response.

These were not the only evidences of War to be seen within the city walls. The entire first circle had taken a lot of damage. As they walked north towards the gate to the second circle, many buildings showed charring at the windows, their skeleton roofs of blackened beams just visible in the torch light against the darkening sky. Other houses had collapsed. Some were already under reconstruction, others still piles of rubble, and yet more which had been cleared – bare spaces with broken foundations ready for some other use or for someone to build again. While such damage was also visible on occasion in the second circle, it was rare. It was clear the first circle had taken the brunt of the reach of the enemy's siege engines.

So they snaked back and forth, zig-zagging their way from north to south to north again, passing through the great pinnacle of rock each time, as they made their way up through the city.

At long last they passed through the pinnacle of rock one last time and came to a large opening to their right that led to the seventh level and the Citadel.

There was a brief hiatus at this point, however, as horses were unloaded, baggage sorted and various Gondorian officials, in consultation with the elves, decided who would be housed where. Elrond and his sons, Galadriel, Celeborn, Glorfindel, Erestor and a few others would all have private chambers within the Citadel itself. Arwen, obviously, would be housed in her new rooms and a few of her friends would be staying with her in rooms nearby. The rest would be housed within the seventh or sixth circles.

It was clear the Gondorians were trying to house higher ranking elves in the seventh circle and were a little frustrated by what they saw as elvish lack of cooperation if not outright unconformity in resolving this issue given most of the elves considered themselves on a pretty much even social standing.

Aragorn, Arwen and the rest of the leading notables had headed on up to the Citadel, but Faramir returned and, with a few sharp words, had to insist that if the elves felt there was little distinction between them all, then so be it – let them be housed wherever they saw fit.

The Gondorian official he spoke to bowed his head and muttered an apology, though it was clear he was not terribly happy about it and still thought it all deeply odd. Penny began to realise what Erestor had warned about: that etiquette and social mores counted for a lot in Minas Tirith. Since it clearly meant so much to the Gondorian official to have some kind of nod to social niceties, several ellyn suggested ellith take whatever space was available on the seventh level. This mollified him enough to allow the rest of the billeting to be sorted out without any more complaint.

To make things a little easier, most were to be housed in large groups, taking over several rooms in a building if not the entire thing. Various elves peeled off with servants to see that the right baggages were taken to the right places while the rest of them headed up to the Citadel where they would be fed and watered after their long journey. The boy with Penny's saddle bag disappeared off in the company of various large baggages belonging to several ellith. It was clear Penny was to be housed somewhere in the seventh circle with Mireth and Eleniel.

Two Citadel guards were on duty on either side of the entrance way up to the Citadel, holding a salute, one arm fixed across their chests, as everyone filed past them. The path led up an incline, high walls on either side getting progressively shorter as they climbed, torches in the walls lighting the way.

As Penny finally reached the end of it, she gasped, even though she had known what she would see. The Tower of Ecthelion rose high into the night sky, and in front of it was a paved courtyard, surrounded by tall buildings, in the centre of which tinkled a fountain, the water's music echoing prettily off the walls. Standing beside it, newly planted and its boughs already filled with blossom, was a tall, white sapling. Looming huge in the distance was the great, dark shape of the mountain.

Penny turned to look behind her. There was no moon, but she could just make out the shadowy hint of the lookout on top of the rock pinnacle. Beyond it in the far distance was a long, black mass that blocked out the stars lowest in the horizon: the mountains of Mordor.

She could not quite believe she was here. She felt herself a little breathless, and not from the walk. She tried to look as natural as possible but when she turned round she could see Lindir throw a glance in her direction, as did Elrohir, though he was a little way off.

A slow trickle of servants were coming up from the entrance to the sixth level and disappeared into the dark, taking baggage to various rooms for the higher ranking guests and ellyth.

As the crowd moved off to a large building adjoining the tower, other nobles who had awaited their arrival here in the courtyard, Gondorian and Dúnedain, stepped forward to be introduced to or greeted by Elrond, Galadriel and the others. The Imladris elves greeted the Dúnedain warmly, quickly introducing them to their Galadhrim friends, most of whom had never met them before.

"Pen-ii, you remember Faelon?" Lindir gestured to a tall, thick-set Dúnadan beside him. "He was at Imladris for several days before the Dúnedain rode south."

Penny did not remember him but pretended she did.

"Well met, Faelon. I am glad to see you once more."

The man smiled. "Well met, indeed, Lady Pen-ii. Your Sindarin has improved excellently, I notice. Halbarad would have been most proud."

Penny gave a thin smile. It was the first mention of him here in this place, here where he had died. Not only that, but this man, a friend, perhaps even kin, perhaps one who saw him die for all she knew, was speaking of him in the past tense. She had known he was dead, but that just made it seem so brutally final somehow.

Penny swallowed.

He was watching her, a keen look in his eyes. "You did know that he-?" he started to ask, his voice quiet and gentle.

"Yes, yes," Penny said quickly. "Yes, Aragorn sent word north."

She knew her tone was perhaps a little brusquer than she had intended it, but the Dúnadan smiled kindly as if he understood.

"'King Elessar,' Pen-ii. We must abide by Gondorian formality now, do not forget," Lindir tried to sound bright.

Penny smiled and nodded, forcing herself to respond to his tone. "Of course. It will take some getting used to." She tried a short laugh. She was not really convincing anyone.

They were nearing a set of low, wide steps that led to a huge pair of doors into the hall. Tables and benches were laid out.

Lindir was greeting other Dúnedain as they passed him, grasping some by the arm, others into a brotherly embrace. Faelon still walked along beside Penny.

"Ah, there is one of our number I know you have not yet met, Lady Pen-ii," he suddenly said. "Arvain!"

A young Dúnadan, probably not many years older than Penny herself, was a little way down the hall and talking animatedly to Naurdir and his wife. He turned towards them at Faelon 's shout. He looked quizzically for a moment and then, seeing Lindir with them, broke into a broad smile, muttered something to Naurdir and came towards them.

"Lindir! It is good to see you!"

"And you, Arvain. You are looking well."

"This is Halbarad's youngest son," Faelon explained to Penny. "Arvain, this is Lady Pen-ii."

Penny was speechless. Arvain had turned to her instantly at the mention of her name, so it was clear he knew who she was and was no less surprised and delighted as she at this meeting. His smile turned into a toothy grin.

"Lady Pen-ii! We had hoped you might be here, but we could not have known for sure if you were to travel with Elrond or not. It is a great pleasure to meet you."

He grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it and bowing a little before Penny even knew what was happening. She was still staring at him in bewilderment.

"I am… very pleased to meet you, my lord," she mumbled.

They laughed.

"Ah, I think Lindir would tell you many a tale of my youth that would persuade you I was no lord, Lady Pen-ii-"

"Your 'youth'?" Faelon snorted. "You are still a youth, Arvain, to old hands like myself and Lindir here." He clapped Lindir round the shoulders as he spoke, Lindir joining in his laughter.

Arvain ignored them, though it seemed his grin broadened a little. "I thank you for your courtesy, Lady Pen-ii. Your Sindarin is fluent now, I see?"

"So fluent she has moved on to Westron," Lindir grinned.

"Indeed?" Arvain raised an eyebrow, matching Lindir's grin with his own. "Excellent! And how are you finding it, Lady Pen-ii?"

"Oh, well, a little difficult, in truth. I am no linguist, Rhimlath thinks Erestor cannot teach, and squabbling elves are not conducive to learning."

Arvain laughed loudly. "Who is this Rhimlath? I think I would like his company!"

"I have also been a little unwell, so I have learnt nothing since Rohan."

Arvain suddenly looked serious. "Unwell?"

But he got no chance to find out more just then as another voice interrupted them.

"Lady Pen-ii?"

Penny turned and, for a split second, froze.

It was Halbarad.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

1. The order and formation of the elves in the wedding party as they arrived at Minas Tirith, the silver banner, the silver sceptre, etc are all described in 'Return of The King' at the end of the chapter "The King and the Steward". It also clear from this chapter that the day of the elves arrival was not know to Aragorn, indeed it was only through Gandalf's insistence that it would not be long that he may have had a vague idea. The sign was in finding the tree, and then when the tree came into blossom – only then did Aragorn know the moment would be very soon. Thus I have deliberately not had Prince Imrahil there, though at first I had included him, since he would have had his own people and lands to attend to now Sauron had fallen and the threat from the south was far less (though not completely gone). Without knowing when the marriage would take place, and with things to attend to, he could not reasonably hang around in Minas Tirith on the off-chance. I suspect the same was true for Eomer also – even once the elves had arrived in Rohan, there was still much to be done and he could not leave his people when he would have to be heading for Minas Tirith soon to fetch the body of Theoden anyway. This is my reasoning behind Eomer not being there (something known – JRRT made it clear he was not) nor Prince Imrahil (something unknown – I have surmised that to be the case for the purposes of this fic).

2. Ingold was the Gondorian guard who greeted Mithrandir and Pippin on their way into the Pelennor. He was not specified as captain. I have made him so. Consider him to either have been before the War, or else promoted by Aragorn for not refusing entry to Mithrandir and, one would like to think, holding the gate valiantly against the attack from the north.

3. The distances involved in the Pelennor are huge. The Rammas Echor is 10 leagues in length. At 3 miles to a league, that's 30 miles. The gate to Osgiliath was described as the most distant point in the Rammas Echor to Minas Tirith – 12 miles – but the northern gate is shown on JRRT's maps as only a little bit less, so I have thought of it at 10 miles (possibly a tad more). At a slow walking pace for horses and people that's 2mph, so getting from the gate to Minas Tirith alone would take 5 hours. And that's not including the stop off for lunch. 'The King and the Steward' describes the messengers arriving with news that the host of elves was not yet reached the Pelennor gate, and yet the stars were just appearing in the eastern sky when they finally reached Minas Tirith – so early evening/dusk. The messenger would no doubt have ridden hard and fast to get the King this news, hence their covering the distance in a far shorter time.

4. I have said there is no moon since JRRT's timeline (see the Appendices) makes it clear they arrive at the end of the month. Thus the moon would be either invisible or so thin and low in the sky as to be very difficult to see with the naked eye.


	22. So It Begins

**Chapter 22** – _"So It Begins"  
_

It was not Halbarad, of course. In the same instant that the thought had come to into her head, her brain had immediately told her not to be so ridiculous.

Halbarad was dead. She knew he was dead. Nothing would change that fact.

Not only that, but as she looked at the face gently smiling down at her, she could see this man was considerably younger than Halbarad had been. He was also less square in the jaw, and while the eyes were grey, they more resembled Arvain's than Halbarad's.

If the man noticed her momentary shock, he did not mention it.

"My name is Halladan. You knew my father, I understand? He told me much about you. It is an honour to meet you."

"I thank you. I am honoured to meet you also," Penny replied a little haltingly. "You… you look very like him, you know."

Halladan gave a sad smile. "I know."

"Well met, Halladan." Lindir held out his hand, and the other grasped his forearm. "Still standing, I see. Good, good."

There was a rueful chuckle from Halladan. "More or less, my friend. More or less."

It was only then Penny noticed he was walking with a stick.

"But we are missing one," Lindir carried on cheerfully. "Where is Hirvell? He should be here to greet us and to meet Lady Pen-ii as well."

He had been looking round, peering into the throng to see if he could spot Hirvell as he spoke, but even as his sentence ended, he sensed Faelon, Halladan and Arvain stiffen slightly. He turned back towards them, a look of horror on his face as he guessed what their reaction must mean.

Halladan's jaw had tightened, his gaze falling to the floor as Lindir had mentioned his brother's name. Arvain looked vaguely embarrassed.

It was Faelon who spoke.

"He fell in front of the Black Gates, Lindir. He is with his parents now and in peace."

Lindir looked appalled. "No! No, this cannot be! Hirvell!" He gasped heavily, clearly shocked and grieved by this news. "We had no word… We did not know… Halladan, Arvain, you must forgive me, I had no idea."

"You were not to know," Arvain replied, forcing a smile. "It is a bitter blow, it is true. Perhaps all the harder coming after the loss of Father as well. But he died well, Lindir. Father would have been proud, though I am glad he did not live to see it."

Penny noticed Halladan said nothing but seemed to be staring fixedly at a point somewhere away to his left, almost as if he could not hear the conversation anymore and his attention were drawn elsewhere.

"Come, let us eat. We can mull over all that we have lost and won better without our stomachs rumbling." Faelon was already leading the way to the nearest table.

Penny felt numb.

First Halbarad and now… what was his name? Hirvell, was it? She had never met him, and yet she felt desperately upset by this news.

As she sat, still silent and wondering at the shock she felt for this unknown son of Halbarad's, she glanced up and found Halladan looking at her.

"I… I am sorry for your loss," she said quietly, not sure what was the appropriate thing to say in such a situation. Halladan inclined his head by way of thanks.

Penny felt overwhelmed by the knowledge that not only was Halbarad not here, but only two of his sons had survived him, and one of those was injured, though how badly she did not know.

In fact, as a simple supper of soup, cheese, and bread was presented to them, Penny felt her thoughts crowding in on her. The destruction on the Pelennor, in the city, the personal loss – the scarred men hiding in the shadows in the lower circles, Hirvell dead, the piled heaps of bodies in those mass pits outside the walls…

What horrors had these men seen? What nightmares must haunt their dreams even now?

Not for the first time she felt unwanted thoughts crawl into her head however much she tried to block them out.

How had he died? What had happened to him? Had it been brutal? Painful? Horrific? All three? Had Hirvell's death been any less horrendous? Arvain had said he had 'died well,' but what did that mean? Was any death by sword or hammer or axe glorious?

So many had died, so many had been injured, so much destroyed and lost, and she had known, she had known it would all happen. She had sat by and let it happen. Yes, Sauron had fallen, but at what cost? Though she did not doubt all those involved would willingly have paid an even higher price had it been necessary, was there really nothing she could have done?

It was a pointless question. A futile, hollow, ridiculous question, and she knew the answer to it, but that did not stop her brain from blind-siding her with it every now and then when she least expected it.

She glanced up to the top table where Mithrandir was seated and silently willed him to look up in her direction. Would he even remember her, she wondered. Then she scolded herself. Yes, he was changed when he returned as 'Gandalf the White,' removed in some ways from his former life, but he would not have forgotten her.

Now she was feeling this rush of emotion, she was suddenly very conscious of the fact that it had often been Halbarad who had been the one to comfort her in Imladris: Halbarad and Gandalf between them. Now Halbarad was gone, and Gandalf…? She glanced in his direction once more. Gandalf was laughing heartily at something Glorfindel had said to him, too busy perhaps to even realise she was here among them as yet, though no doubt he would spot her at some point. She would still like to talk to him, though. Now she was here in Minas Tirith, at possibly her final destination, and with so many questions and worries still buzzing about inside her head…

Halladan was watching her.

So this was the famous Lady Pen-ii, was it? This was the strange woman he had heard so much about from his father as they had travelled south, the woman he had wanted to meet for all these months, the woman who had single-handedly managed to enrage and endear herself to his father in a way Halladan had found astonishing, and now here she was sitting opposite him.

She was not quite what he had expected. The change his father had seen begin to show itself in her after her spending time in Imladris had clearly continued apace after he had left her for that last time. There seemed no hint of the mad, wild woman he had described her to be when he had first met her, or not that Halladan could see.

She was a little taller than Halladan had thought she would be, but then his father had always been terribly dismissive of anyone under five foot ten, and while not as tall as a woman of the Dunedain, she was still taller than some mortal women could be. She was also not as plain as he had assumed her to be from his father's description. Halbarad had not said she was ugly, it was true, but then, Halladan berated himself, he should have remembered that in his father's eyes, no woman had any beauty whatsoever compared to Halladan's mother. 'Lady Pen-ii' was not a pig-faced orc, Halladan now realised, unlike some women he had met in his time. She did indeed 'clean up nicely enough,' as his father had put it. She had caught some colour to her skin as she had travelled, the elvish dress suited her, and she looked fit and well…

Or did she?

As he studied her more closely, he could see that underneath the slightly burnished skin tone there was a pallor that hinted at her recent illness. Her face showed it could be a little fuller than it was at present. Halladan had heard the tail end of Arvain's and Penny's conversation as he had joined them, so he knew she had been unwell, and that its marks were still upon her spoke towards its seriousness. He wondered at the concern he felt for her as this realisation sank home, given he had not yet known her for even an hour. But then, in some ways he felt he had known her for months, even if he had not met her before tonight.

He had noticed her reaction to the news of Hirvell's death, how her eyes had grown moist and she had immediately become quiet and introspective, and it had touched him. He could guess some of her current thoughts near enough, especially when he followed her gaze and realised who she was looking at.

He made a note to make sure Mithrandir realised she was among the company from Imladris (though he did not doubt he already knew) and that she possibly wanted to talk to him. Aragorn would want to know as well.

Penny suddenly realised Halladan was looking at her once again, his gaze thoughtfully curious. She flushed and concentrated on trying to eat something, though in truth she had completely lost her appetite.

Now the initial excitement of their arrival was over, the exhaustion of her first long day in the saddle after so long was hitting her. She could have happily fallen asleep right where she was sitting.

"Is anything amiss, Lady Pen-ii? Can I fetch you anything?"

"What? No, I thank you. I am quite well, Lord Halladan."

"Are you sure, Pen-ii? You look tired."

"I am, Lindir. It has been a long day."

"And the first for you not riding in the cart, of course. Perhaps you would prefer to go to your lodging?"

Penny nodded. "Perhaps." She had barely touched her food.

"Cart?" Arvain looked concerned. "Yes, you said you had been ill, Lady Pen-ii. But so ill you could not ride?"

Halladan seemed to share his brother's concern.

"It was nothing. I am quite recovered."

Lindir raised an eyebrow. "It was not 'nothing', and while you are certainly on the mend you are not back to full strength, Pen-ii. You know perfectly well how seriously ill you were."

Penny felt slightly embarrassed having these strangers know she had been so very ill. She did not want to be made a fuss of or have it seem like she was playing for sympathy.

"I am fine, Lindir! Do not fuss! You are like an old mother hen at times!"

Arvain choked on his soup and Faelon laughed out loud. Halladan looked both astonished and amused.

"You see how she talks to us?" Lindir waved his hand at her. "It is disgraceful, really." He grinned.

"Oh, I would say it merely shows she has settled into Imladris life very well," Faelon replied. "It would seem Lady Pen-ii has learnt how to put you in your place easily enough, and that is no bad thing, after all."

"Yes, well, there is that, I suppose." Lindir laughed.

"Do you know where you are housed, Lady Pen-ii?" Halladan asked, trying to bring the conversation back to her. "Do you wish me to find out for you?"

"No, I thank you, Lord Halladan-"

"Please," he interrupted, smiling. "Call me Halladan."

"I thank you, Halladan, but do not trouble yourself. I know I am to be housed with Mireth and Eleniel. I am sure we can find it together ourselves."

"Ah, yes, Mireth and Celebdor are betrothed at last, we hear," Arvain interrupted. "About time, I say. They have been mooning about over each other for as long as I have been alive, if not longer."

While Lindir pointed out that they had probably been 'mooning about over each other' since Halbarad had been a boy, Halladan asked if Penny was quite sure she did not need assistance and Penny reassured him. She had already spotted Eleniel across the room and had caught her eye. Eleniel came over.

"Shall we go and find our lodgings? Celebdor explained to Mireth where they were. He took our baggage there. It sounds easy enough to find."

So Penny made her excuses, glad to be able to get away from them all for a while, if she were honest. She did not leave the great hall without a final glance up towards Elrond, Gandalf, Erestor, and the rest, but they were all too busy to notice her or look her way.

As she made her way across the courtyard, past the fountain and towards her lodging, Mireth and Eleniel chattered excitedly beside her. Penny was too tired and too caught up in her thoughts to say much.

Meanwhile, however, her ears were burning.

"And when you say 'seriously ill', Lindir, you mean…?"

"I mean what you think I might mean, Arvain. Were it not for the fortunate fact that she travelled with skilled healers, and one as skilled as Elrond, well, then…" He left the sentence unfinished. "She was very nearly left in Rohan," he continued. "By rights she was too sick to travel."

"Elbereth!" murmured Halladan, exchanging an alarmed glance with his brother.

They had all seen the way Eleniel had insisted Penny take her arm and, while Penny had protested a little at first, and made a show of not putting any weight on her friend while still near them, she had been using all the support Eleniel could give her by the time she reached the doors. Halladan had also noticed her brief, worried glance to the top table.

A small building on the southern side of the courtyard (down one alley, a left turn, down a second alley and then through the third door on the right) was where Penny had been billeted. The entire three-story house was to be shared by ellith, twelve to a floor. Penny, Mireth and Eleniel were sharing one of the two suites of three rooms on the first floor with three other ellyth. Curtains covered the doorways that led from the central room to the two rooms on either side. Penny suspected that normally this central room would be a place for recreation and eating, but clearly space was limited and two extra cots had been placed there. No doubt the same had been done in every similar set of rooms elsewhere. Each room had a jug of water and a bowl, and a bed pan under each bed.

Each room also had a large window overlooking the wall and out towards the Emyn Arnen in the south-east. Not much could be seen other than a starlit sky and the dark, shadowy mass of the landscape below it.

Mireth and Penny shared one end room. A wooden screen could unfold and be stood between the two beds to provide some privacy (so they could use the bed pans with some level of discretion in the night if they needed to, for example). Penny was too tired to try and discover where the latrines might be and just wanted to go to bed. She insisted the others return to the meal.

"We need an early night too, you know," Mireth laughed.

"I have to go and help Arwen get ready early tomorrow morning," Eleniel reminded Penny. "That dress has been a long time in the making, and I need to make sure she looks her best in it."

Arwen could wear an old potato sack and still look stunning as far as Penny was concerned, but she was not about to argue the point. She shrugged, readied herself for bed and let them stay or leave as they pleased.

She was asleep almost as soon as her head hid the pillow.

So, Penny missed the few short speeches, the story-telling and the ballads, though it was not a long night by any means. Given it would be a long day of feasting and celebration tomorrow, most made their way to their lodgings early.

The hobbits were disappointed to have missed Penny, and also concerned to hear she had been unwell.

"She is fine, Ban, do not worry. You will see her tomorrow, and I am sure she will want to talk more about you and your heroics than her recent minor troubles."

Sam flushed a little at Celebdor's words and muttered something about people making a fuss that he was not used to getting and he was just an ordinary hobbit who had done what anyone else would have done in the circumstances. When Celebdor gave him a look that told him he was not buying it, Sam flushed an even deeper red and wandered off to find Frodo.

Later that evening, a small group were seated in a comfortable room that formed part of the royal suites. It was a warm night, so there was no need for a fire and the shutters were flung back to get some air. The room was lit with candles and by the starlight through the window. The drapes were heavy and fine, the furniture solid and ornately carved, the floor intricately inlaid marble, but there was a sense that this room was infrequently used, indeed had not been used for many years until recently.

"So you decided to bring Lady Pen-ii with you, I notice?" Gandalf was puffing on his pipe, seated near the fireplace.

"Well, as much as she is welcome to stay at Imladris, I thought it prudent to give her this opportunity to move to Minas Tirith should she desire it. I wanted to discuss with you whether perhaps you felt she might be better suited here among Gondorians than the people of the North. Admittedly, I think elvish company suits her best, but I am sure she misses mortal interaction."

"She would be most welcome, but she will only have a short time here to make such a decision," Aragorn pointed out.

"Indeed," Gandalf agreed.

"We have the journey back to Rohan in which it will still not be too late for her to make a decision if she has not already done so before then. It will be a little over a month all told that she has to consider the matter. Besides, she has had all this time as we travelled south to think about it. We discussed it a little before we left."

"Ah."

"What do you mean 'ah'?"

"Nothing, Elrond, only that I am surprised that you-"

"She brought it up herself, Mithrandir," Erestor interjected. "She was not very happy about it either from what we could sense."

"Ah."

"Annoyed you had made decisions about her future without talking to her first, I would imagine, from what I remember of her personality."

"I had not made a decision, Estel."

"I realise. I did not say she was correct in either her assumption or her reaction."

Elrond inclined his head as if to say 'point taken'.

"She needs your advice, Mithrandir."

Celeborn spoke very softly, and all turned to him.

"Oh?"

"When we spoke to her in Lothlorien, Galadriel could sense it very clearly from her, indeed could surmise her questions." He glanced up and looked Mithrandir straight in the eye. "You of all of us, Mithrandir, might have the answers for her. You alone. If not you, then no one in Arda."

"Ah."

There was snort of mild irritation from Elrond. "Give Mithrandir some more wine, Estel. It may help to loosen his tongue somewhat."

Gandalf chuckled. "Now, now, Elrond, I cannot turn up at the marriage of your beautiful daughter with a sore head, can I?"

"There is much uncertainty about her still." Glorfindel spoke at last. "We all can sense it, and while she was ill it was particularly strong at times, was it not?" He looked about him, expecting one of the others to confirm this.

Elrond nodded. "At moments when she let down her guard, yes, it was. There was the fear of the illness when she was more alert, but at other times, yes, it was very clear her sense of confusion and turmoil is still there. She covers it well, indeed I think much of the time she manages to forget about it entirely."

"Except when it is brought to the surface," Mithrandir muttered.

The others glanced at him.

"Halladan spoke to me earlier. He felt sure she had been hoping to speak to me tonight. She was glancing towards our table at the evening meal and seemed… How did he put it? 'Out of sorts,' that was it. 'Out of sorts and troubled' was how he described her. And he has a sharp insight, that one, much like his father before him. She had just learned of Hirvell's death, remarked how like his father Halladan looks, and coming immediately on the heels of riding through the Pelennor and seeing the evidence of destruction in the city… In addition, she will have been tired and more emotional as a consequence of her day's travel, so it was perhaps to be expected."

"She knew much of what took place here," Elrond said quietly. "I was astonished at the detail when she spoke to me at last. Of course, it has yet to be confirmed, though your letters told me much of what she had said was true."

"So very strange," Aragorn said to no one in particular after a brief silence, shaking his head as he did so.

"Is it? Is it so very different from the gift of foreknowledge that everyone in this room possesses to some degree or another?"

"Mithrandir, none of us, not if we had all had some foreknowledge of different elements of this War and combined our thoughts, could have known all that she knew," Erestor pointed out. "If all of it was true, of course."

"You doubt it?"

"Not at all. Yet there is always the possibility she forgot or misremembered parts, or some elements had been lost in translation or changed over the years by inaccurate scribes. Anything is possible, Mithrandir."

"You are quite right. Of course."

"There is more, Mithrandir."

Mithrandir said nothing, but he glanced at Elrond sharply.

"She will not tell me, nor have I pressed her since we left Imladris, but I know there is yet more that she will not speak of."

"Is there, now?" Gandalf murmured quietly, chewing thoughtfully on his pipe.

He mulled over this piece of unexpected news as another short silence fell, each one wondering what more there could be when so much had already passed in recent times.

"Why is she here, Mithrandir, do you know? How did she get here?"

"Ah, now, Aragorn, even I, a humble wizard, cannot know everything."

There was gentle laughter at his words.

"What troubles her most are questions such as those," Celeborn pointed out. "It is clear she feels at home here, both to us as much as to herself, though how that might be or what it might mean I have no true insight. Galadriel told her as much, but I am not sure she understood or believed her. She lives in fear of losing this, of losing what she has gained. She could disappear as suddenly as she arrived, and that terrifies her. I know what I sense from her, and I can guess at the meaning, but that is all it would be – a guess. Without certainty she will never rid herself of her anxiety."

Gandalf nodded, taking a contemplative suck on his pipe, but saying nothing.

"There is the guilt, of course, we must not forget that," Erestor added.

Elrond gave a heavy sigh. "Yes, indeed. I do not doubt that will come to the fore now she is here, where so many have fallen."

"She could have done nothing to prevent it," Aragorn replied. "It would have been wrong of her to try." He spoke with complete conviction.

"True, yet mortal reasoning and nature are ever flawed, my dear friend, as you well know," Gandalf rumbled into his beard. "Yes, I think Erestor and Elrond have made an excellent point. Hmm. Well, nothing can be done till after tomorrow, perhaps not for several days if the festivities are as splendid as I suspect they will be. I shall speak to her when I am able to. As for her staying here in Minas Tirith, that may be an excellent suggestion. We shall have to wait and see."

"After what happened in Rohan, I am not so sure." Glorfindel muttered into his goblet of wine.

"Ah, now, that is easily remedied with more Westron lessons," Erestor retorted.

Glorfindel raised a sceptical eyebrow.

Aragorn looked from one to the other, the hint of a smile on his face. "Why? What happened in Rohan?"

"I am not sure this is the time or the place-" Elrond interrupted hurriedly. His obvious discomfort on Penny's behalf only made Aragorn's smile all the broader.

"Well, she got horribly drunk for a start," Glorfindel began.

At the end of his tale, starting with the drunken singing and ending with the _coup de grace_ of the Westron mistake, Aragorn was laughing loudly and Gandalf's eyes were twinkling below his bushy eyebrows.

"It is hardly a laughing matter, Estel. If Lindir or Rhimlath had not been there-"

"But they _were_ there, Elrond, and I hardly think anyone else in the vicinity would have let her wander off into the night with an enthusiastic young Rohirrim, either. Ai, poor Pen-ii! I take it you have not told her of what occurred? She would be deeply ashamed and embarrassed if she knew." He glanced at the expressions of 'Who do you think you are talking to? Do we _look_ stupid?' that met his gaze and held up his hands with a muttered apology, chuckling.

The next morning was, indeed, an early one. The city was buzzing with excitement. Eleniel stuck her head through the curtain to wake Penny and stir Mireth from her elvish rest. She was already fully dressed, but in an ordinary gown (for which read 'sumptuous by most standards').

"I will be back later to dress myself for the ceremony. I need to go and help Arwen, check no stitching has come undone, or jewels lost or embroidery damaged en route."

"I thought you checked it last night?"

Eleniel had indeed gone to the about-to-be-queen's royal apartments after Penny had slept to lay out the dress and check it over.

"Yes, but I may have missed something in the starlight. The more time I have now, the better." She smiled. "Shall I bring you some breakfast? We help ourselves this morning."

"We can go," Mireth smiled. "You go and help Arwen. Help her calm her nerves."

"Very well. Oh, and we have been told to leave the bedpans, if used. Servants will clear them."

"What?" Penny was appalled.

"Well, that was my reaction too, Pen-ii. We are not used to having others wait on us, but if that is their custom then we may offend if we do not accede to it."

Penny fumed. She was damned if she was going to subject someone else to that. It had been bad enough Mireth or Eleniel doing it when she had been utterly incapable, but a complete stranger when Penny was more than able to deal with it herself? No bloody way!

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a glance, seeing the determined expression on Penny's face.

"Well, in that case, in future I will use the latrines and cross my legs in the night if I have to," muttered Penny.

The other two laughed. Eleniel then left and Mireth and Penny got up, washed and started to dress. Penny threw open the shutters and looked out.

The view was amazing. Laid out below was layer after layer of roofs and walls. She could make out people wandering to and fro on roads and alleyways, children playing in gutters, women hanging out washing in backyards or on balconies, men chatting to each other in the street, boys coming back home with fresh baked bread for breakfast, dogs barking and chasing their tails. It was early, but there was a level of hubbub that showed today was no ordinary day. Today, Minas Tirith would get its Queen.

Beyond was the green of the southern Pelennor, though even from this distance there was the odd patch of black burning, a tumbled down ruined farmhouse or two and areas of destroyed trees. The wall to the south was only two or three miles distant and, from this height, was just visible in the bright, morning sun as a faint grey line. Then beyond, hidden from view, was the river, and then the low hills of the Emyn Arnen.

Once dressed, Mireth and Penny headed off downstairs, leaving their three other roommates chattering and giggling over the upcoming festivities.

Mireth first of all showed Penny the nearest latrines, housed in a small, low building at the far end of the street. There were six cubicles, and a little foyer with a sink, above which was a pipe with a tap in it. The pipe apparently connected through the roof to a tank that collected rain water. Jugs could be filled and hands washed.

It was surprisingly civilised.

The latrines were not the most private of places – the toilets themselves consisted of one long stone bench that ran the length of the small building, with wooden seats around the holes and stone built dividers separating each one to form a cubicle. Each cubicle had a thin wooden door with a latch and a small window cut into the outer wall to allow in some light once the door was shut. It was not dissimilar to a modern public lavatory, except there was no flush (you used the jug) and the toilets all opened out on to the same sewer pipe that ran underneath them, filled with running water, the sound of which tinkled upwards to you as you made to sit down. The smell of it wafted up to you as well, though, and unless you sat on the western-most latrine you had all your neighbours' waste running underneath you (since the sewer ran west to east), which was not a pleasant thought, but you couldn't have everything, perhaps.

All told, it was not as private or fragrant as latrines in Lothlorien or Imladris, but it was certainly a darn sight better than anything Mireth or Penny could have imagined or hoped for.

The buttery was in a sort of basement area of the Citadel, below the Tower. Various people were already up and about and heading in that direction, chatting amiably, or coming from it armed with baskets or little sacks.

Soon Mireth and Penny were back in their chambers, sharing bread, butter, jam, fruit and milk with the others.

Two women, clearly servants, appeared asking if people wanted to bathe. There was a room on the ground floor with a tiled floor that sloped to a hole in one corner where someone could have a stand-up wash, apparently. The servants offered to wash them personally, but the ellith and Penny politely declined. Thus hot water was brought, cold added to it and the house had washes, two at a time, in the small 'bathroom' downstairs. No one washed their hair, though, since there was not enough time to get it dry.

If, while this was happening and the servants cleaned and tidied the rooms, they wondered why one bedpan was not simply clean as if unused, but rather clean and still wet from having been washed out, they said nothing.

It was late morning when at last they were ready. Eleniel had returned some time before to change and prepare herself. She had asked if they could help with her hair first since she had to return to Arwen.

"I think she could do with as many of us outnumbering the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting as possible, truth be told. They are into everything and while very well-meaning, have no clue about how to help her. They are too busy admiring her dress to help calm her down."

She had then rushed off again, a gem-studded circlet on her brow, and wearing a deep green dress richly embroidered with leaves and tendrils all over the skirt that Penny did not doubt would show the Gondorian women that Arwen's dress, while magnificent, was perhaps only to be expected given Elvish craftsmanship.

Mireth had offered a simple circlet of mithril for Penny to wear but she had felt shy to accept and also pointed out that it might perhaps not suit the white and gold detailing on her red dress. One of the other ellith produced what was actually a pearl cloak clasp – four pearls clustered in a gold setting – that she insisted Penny wear in her hair.

Penny tried to protest but was outnumbered four to one. How they got it to stay there she had no idea, and she was terrified it would drop out and she would lose it. She shook her head gently and realised it was staying firm. Millennia of dressing hair apparently taught you a thing or two, she thought wryly.

There was a knock at the door. An elleth of Lothlorien stuck her head round it to say a group of ellyn were downstairs at the outside door to escort them to the hall, since the crowds were beginning to gather and things were due to start soon.

With the excitement building in her stomach, one last check that her hair was in place and off her face, the pearl clasp had not come loose and that her dress was fully fastened, Penny made her way down with the ellith and stepped out into the lane.

She could not quite believe she was on her way to witness THE wedding of the Age.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Now before people wonder where on earth the idea for the latrines and shower/bathroom came from and start ranting, they are based on examples found in the Babylonian, Minoan and Roman cultures (all of which are slightly different, but share many similarities). Indeed it was after watching a documentary on Minoan culture and what they found at Knossos (including a flushing loo and a shower), that I realised (with some regret, I will confess, since you know how I love to torment poor Penny) life at Minas Tirith would not be quite so bad for Penny as I had at first envisaged.

My apologies for another long chapter. So much to say and not enough space to say it in


	23. THE Wedding of The Age

**Chapter 23** - _THE Wedding of The Age_

If Penny had thought the elves had looked impressive the day before, then it was nothing to how they looked today. The Gondorians would have looked splendid enough all on their own, but frankly the elves had them beat hands down. The courtyard was slowly filling with people, all milling about in an excited manner in front of the low, broad steps up to the Great Hall. As Penny looked about her, she could barely take in all the jewellery, the fine brocade on nearly every tunic in sight, the sumptuous embroidery on skirts and sleeves, the gemstones in hair or on brows.

But then you did not get a wedding of the Age every day of the week, so it was only to be expected.

Everyone was very kind and complimented her on her dress and how she looked, even though she paled in comparison with any elleth, and (as far as she was concerned) any lady of Gondor to boot. Lindir looked magnificent in a tunic of forest green, as did Celebdor in a dark blue one that made his grey eyes seem stormily dark. When he and Mireth had spotted each other in the crowd even Penny sensed the frisson between them – nothing like getting dressed up to the nines to remind the one you love just why they fell for you in the first place.

Penny was busily introduced to various Dúnedain and Gondorian lords by Lindir and Celebdor. She caught sight of Arvain at one point, dressed in a tunic of royal blue that was of a similar style to those worn by the Gondorians, so she assumed he had had it made here in Minas Tirith especially for the occasion. He grinned and waved at her, and she smiled back warmly. He tapped the shoulder of the man standing with him, whose back was facing Penny. She realised it was Halladan as he turned his head and Arvain said something to him, pointing at Penny as he did so, but she did not get a chance to see Halladan turn and look in her direction as at that same moment she was accosted by three hobbits.

She had to do a double take on seeing Sam at first, since she hardly recognised him for a moment. He was decked out in the most splendid gilded chainmail tunic and had a silver circlet round his head. He wore a jewelled belt round his hips with a finely wrought dagger in its scabbard hanging from it that she knew immediately would be the Arnorian one from the barrow.

Merry and Pippin looked very fine in their Rohirric and Gondorian uniforms, but even they agreed with Penny's comment (as translated by Lindir) that Sam looked magnificent. Sam shuffled awkwardly a little but smiled with pride and gratitude in spite of his embarrassment.

Penny asked after Frodo. The hobbits, after glancing round, quickly spotted him, deep in conversation with a group of Gondorian nobles. Pippin called his name and Frodo, seeing Penny, excused himself and came over to them. He looked slightly relieved to escape the conversation.

He was wearing the mithril tunic and also had a silver band round his head similar to Sam's. He and Sam looked like a matching pair of princelings.

He was a lot thinner than Penny remembered him. He seemed brightly cheerful in his greeting, but there was a slightly haunted look to his eyes. He had been through a horrific experience since she had last seen him and she knew he would never wholly recover. He caught her glance at his right hand and the missing middle finger. They looked at each other for a moment, Penny clearly showing her sympathy in her furrowed brows and sad smile, and Frodo looking a little awkward but returning her smile nonetheless.

"You are all heroes," she said quietly. "I am honoured to know you."

Frodo said nothing, though the hobbits had looked to him to explain her words, so Lindir translated and added his own agreement to it.

"Oh, hush, now," Sam muttered. "I won't say I am not pleased as punch to be put into song, but I don't feel as I deserve it any. Not like all these big folks as fought in battles and died and became kings and the like. If anyone's a hero it's Master Maura here, that's for certain, though he won't thank me for saying so."

"Oh, now, Ban, if it were not for you I-" began Frodo, though he got not further than that as Pippin interrupted him.

"We fought in battle too, Ban, do not forget!" Pippin indicated himself and Merry.

"Oh, I know, and poor Kali here faced a terror that I would never have had the stomach to do."

"I got flattened by a troll!" Pippin beamed at Penny. "And Ban here faced orcs and a giant spider and-"

"Yes, thank you, Raz!" Frodo laughed quietly, shaking his head gently. "Could we perhaps discuss this a little later?"

"I would like to hear all about your adventures," Penny replied. She glanced at Frodo. "Well, the things you feel up to talking about, anyway."

"Oh, we're quite used to talking about quite a bit of it already," Merry responded. "After all, everyone wants to hear about it. Or certainly about how Maura the Nine-Fingered saved all of Arda, anyway." He grinned at his cousin who looked a little uncomfortable but smiled genially enough.

There was no time right now, obviously. Even as Merry spoke, other elves were coming over to greet or meet them, many speaking with great reverence to Frodo in particular, but also Sam. It was clear Sam was thrilled by this nearly as much as he was embarrassed by it: his cheeks were flushed but he was also unable to stop a wide grin from plastering itself all over his face.

Eventually, servants started ushering people up the steps and into the hall. There was clearly meant to be some sort of seating arrangement, since the highest officials were being spoken to first so they would take their places nearest the top table. This included Frodo and Sam of course, with Merry and Pippin not far behind them. All four followed Erestor and Glorfindel up the steps and into the Hall.

Legolas and Gimli, also amongst these 'higher officials' as members of the now infamous "Nine Walkers," made their way past Lindir and Penny and stopped momentarily to greet them both.

Legolas gave Penny quite an intense, knowing look as he lifted his head from kissing her hand. She also noted he and Lindir briefly glanced at each other and immediately guessed that Legolas now knew Lindir was in on her secret. She suddenly remembered what she had asked of him and Aragorn the day they had left Imladris. She opened her mouth to ask Legolas if he could forgive her, but he was already moving off, chattering to Gimli and a very tall Dúnadan Penny did not know.

Soon enough she was following afterwards. Penny was surprised to find she was seated next to Lindir, knowing his position in Imladris, but it did also seem that beyond the initial few groups, much of the 'seating arrangement' had descended into a free-for-all. Elvish refusal to have much of a class system was yet again playing havoc with the Gondorian way of doing things. Penny chuckled to herself as she spotted the same man who had got so frustrated over the billeting the night before, throw his hands up in resignation beside the door and stay various servants who were busily running after people and trying to redirect them to tables lower down the hall. He had clearly given it all up as a hopeless exercise.

Arvain and Halladan were seated near her, but several places down. She glanced up, caught Halladan's eye, and he smiled warmly at her and inclined his head by way of greeting. She nodded and smiled in return, pleased to be able to acknowledge his presence at last. The dark grey-green tunic suited him very well, she noted.

When Arwen made her entrance, heralded by a fanfare, preceded by her grandparents, father and brothers, and followed by ellith and ladies-in-waiting, there was a brief moment of stunned silence. It was followed by intense chatter, pointing, staring and even smatters of applause in some quarters (and not just for the dress, as astonishing as it was).

Even Penny was gobsmacked.

She wondered how many of those ellyn whom Arwen's friends had teased her about so often, who had thrown themselves at Arwen's feet for all those centuries, were here today. Quite a few, very probably, and if they were seething with jealousy or kicking themselves right now she would not have blamed them in the least. She also wondered if she was the only one in that moment to wonder how a mortal, even one as extraordinary, heroic and handsome as Aragorn, had landed an elleth as beautiful as this.

However when, shortly afterwards, Aragorn strode into the Hall with Mithrandir by his side, his Steward Faramir, Faelon and another Dúnadan following, and trumpets making the roof shake, Penny wondered no longer. He was dressed entirely in silver and white, his crown on his head, jewels sparkling at his throat, the Elessar stone on his shoulder the only colour about him. He was beautiful, tall and noble, with an innate aura of power and strength, so there was no mistaking his Numenorean ancestry, let alone his elvish upbringing at the hands of Lord Elrond. Here, mortal or no, was someone obviously worthy of the vision of loveliness they had just seen float her way up to the top table.

Everyone stood in silence as he made his way to his seat at the high table, and Arwen's eyes never left his face for the entire time that he walked up the Hall towards her.

The moment he sat, with a brief grin round the hall at them all as he did so, chatter erupted and servants appeared as if from nowhere with flagons of wine and huge platters piled high with food.

The feast began.

If Rohirric food had been basic, Germanic and hearty (with an alarming effect on the digestive system), then the Gondorian idea of good food was something else entirely. Clearly last night's simple supper had been precisely that – a simple supper – and was not the standard by which Gondorian chefs should be judged. It did cross Penny's mind that resources might be limited after the destruction of large chunks of the Pelennor and its crops, hence last night they had held back on foodstuffs so a 'sumptuous blowout' could be provided today.

The woods of Ithilien had been difficult to hunt for quite some time prior to the war, and there was little left within them to hunt even now, especially to do so within the short notice of the elves' arrival. Hence, there was no roast boar or venison (though a Gondorian lord near them assured them that normally that would have also been part of the menu).

It was immediately apparent, though, that the cattle from the Pelennor had fed well while on their brief sojourn in the grasslands of Lebennin during the siege, since there were sliced up hunks of whole sides of beef being served on huge platters. There were also a few roast sheep and, already positioned on the tables at various points, several suckling pigs. If that were not enough, there were also whole roasted birds. _Large_, whole roasted birds. Indeed, one was placed on a table very near Penny and it had taken two servants to carry the thing.

It transpired it was a swan. Or rather, it was a swan, stuffed with a goose, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a pigeon, stuffed with a something like a quail, which was stuffed with a mixture of goose eggs, bread crumbs, more herbs than was sensible, olives, and some kind of fish paste.

Penny boggled.

There was also plenty of fish. Invariably large river fish stuffed with yet more herbs and spices and either covered in cream, or else roasted in a bready dough (itself well salted and peppered).

Interestingly there were not many vegetables on offer. Some potatoes, a lot of bread and that was about it. Although, there were quite a lot of artichokes, tomatoes and aubergines around, stirred into sauces and ladled over the chunks of meat cut from the roasts, usually with plenty of dried fruit thrown in (apricots and prunes being chief among these). Otherwise it was meat, birds, cheese and eggs, or combinations of the same, as far as the eye could see.

There was more offal than you could shake a stick at. There were sweetbreads in cider, hearts stuffed with mushrooms and dates, minced liver and onions in vine leaves, figs stewed with kidneys: it went on and on and on, and nearly all of it smothered in cream. (The dairy cows had also grazed well, apparently). Indeed, just about everything had some sort of 'sauce' all over it, either as a glaze or in which it had been cooked, invariably involving alcohol (usually wine), cream and plenty of herbs and spices. Pepper was a big favourite, as were cinnamon and something rather sharp, sour and piquant that Penny could not place at first.

"Oh, that is the fish paste I was telling you about," the nearby Gondorian said. "It is very highly prized. It takes months to make."

"Months?"

"Oh, yes. It is left to ferment…"

Penny suddenly did not feel so hungry any more. She stuck to roast meat and bread as her safest option. Umpteen spices combined with full fat cream and rancid bits of old fish were the last thing her still-recovering digestive system needed.

How long the feast lasted, Penny had no idea. She was too taken up in looking round her for most of it, wondering at the splendour of the people, the food, and the surroundings. The whole thing was sumptuous. The Hall itself was built entirely from stone, the floor was marble, and two rows of huge pillars held up the roof which was gilded and intricately carved. The Numenoreans clearly did not believe in doing things by halves and liked to make their mark, and their Gondorian descendents were following in their footsteps. It was evident in the piles of extravagant food, let alone the ostentatious dress of many of the lords and ladies.

They seemed to hope that fine silks, brocade, embroidery and jewels would make up for whatever natural beauty they lacked in comparison to a couple of hundred elves. They failed, of course, but it was hardly their fault nor for want of trying. Frankly who _could_ succeed when faced with this many elves in their very, very best clothes? Penny actually felt a bit sorry for the Gondorians, especially the women, who no matter how stunning their costume or how pretty their face, could not hope to shine in such heart-stoppingly beauteous company.

The only ones not fazed by it all were the Dúnedain who were, of course, used to elves. This gave them a strange air of suave, sophisticated confidence that set them apart from the Gondorian lords who started stuttering and turning a bit pink round the neck if too many ellith talked to them at once.

Eventually, Mithrandir clapped his hands and called for silence. Then he got to his feet, the scraping sound of his chair being pushed back on the stone floor echoing into the rafters.

He asked Aragorn and Arwen to stand forth in front of the top table where all could see them.

A Dúnadan who, Lindir explained in a hushed whisper to Penny, was Aragorn's cousin (his mother's sister's son) stood for Arathorn, while Galadriel stood for Celebrian. Together they joined the couple's hands while Mithrandir spoke words in a tongue Penny did not understand till he repeated it all in Sindarin, invoking Eru Illuvatar and Manwe to bless the union.

Then Aragorn removed the small silver ring he wore on the little finger of his right hand and gave it to Arwen, while she returned to him the Ring of Barahir she wore around her neck (since it was far too large to be worn on an elleth's delicate fingers). Then gold rings were exchanged, brought to them on a velvet cushion by a lad of about ten or so who was pink with pride at being so chosen. Arwen was then presented with a finely worked gemstone on a mithril chain by the Dunadan and thus was the ceremony concluded.

Aragorn gently pulled Arwen to him, and kissed her.

The place erupted.

To loud cheers, fanfare, applause and grins all round, the entire place on their feet, Aragorn and Arwen walked, arm in arm, down the length of the Hall to the doors. These had been flung open and, Penny realised, there was a waiting crowd outside who immediately burst into loud cheering as their King presented to them their Queen. Word spread like wildfire through the city: the deed was done. Bells rang, cheering echoed even down into the first circle, and everyone drank deep and toasted the couple's health.

Today was declared a public holiday, King Elessar told the cheering crowd, and a day of celebration. Throughout the city, on every level, feasting and revelries were being had at the expense of the royal purse. Meat was roasted, much beer and wine imbibed, songs were sung, dancing would go on till the small hours, and many people would wake up the next day with sore heads but light hearts.

Inside the Hall, the tables were being cleared and, as quickly as might be managed, most of them removed. A few were kept and pushed back to the two side aisles formed by the two rows of pillars, so people would have places to sit and chat, or rest from dancing later on. Many more benches were left, not just with the small number of tables, but also up against the walls and as well as some of the pillars within the central portion of the Hall. At the far end, on a small, raised dais, two gilded chairs with high, straight backs and ornately carved arms and legs were set side by side, each with a velvet cushion on the seat. On either side of the dais were the heavy chairs that had been used at the top table, for the more important guests (such as Faramir, Galadriel or Mithrandir, to name only a few) to use if they felt the need.

Minstrels, who had been playing unobtrusively throughout the feast from a small gallery at the far end of the Hall and above the top table, now played a little louder and more exuberantly than before. By this time, Aragorn and Arwen had come back inside, still arm in arm, and wandered their way through the excited throng greeting people and being congratulated. Penny found it was interesting watching the difference between the congratulations of the elves and Dunedain, who knew them personally, and the slightly obsequious, over effusive manner of one or two of the Gondorians, the women in particular.

"Oh, is it not wonderful?" Mireth was beaming.

Penny nodded, smiling broadly. "And in less than a year it will be you and Celebdor."

"I know!" Mireth positively bounced.

"Lady Pen-ii?"

Penny turned to find Halladan smiling down at her.

"Lord Halladan. Well met."

He laughed. "Just Halladan, please. Just Halladan."

"You are a delight to the eye, Lady Pen-ii." Arvain was with his brother, and grabbed her hand, kissing it with a grand flourish. "Your dress suits you very handsomely, does it not, brother?"

Halladan murmured his assent, nodding and smiling gently.

Penny blushed a little with awkwardness. Flattery and politeness were all well and good, but she was no good at compliments, however well intentioned, especially if she did not believe them.

Thankfully she was saved any further discomfort by the imminent arrival of the royal newlyweds.

"Ah, Lady Pen-ii! We meet at last!"

Penny was not sure if she should curtsey or bow. She suddenly realised she had not been paying enough attention to what the Gondorian ladies had been doing in this respect. She opted for a sort of bob while keeping her eyes on the floor.

Of course, this was completely upstaged by Mireth throwing her arms round Arwen's neck and Arvain and Halladan each in turn grasping Aragorn's forearm to embrace him while giving him a hearty slap on the back.

"I see Lady Pen-ii at least shows some modicum of civility in remembering my station," Aragorn said, smirking a little and raising an eyebrow at the brothers, who immediately looked apologetic. Aragorn laughed. "Come now, have I not known you both since you were babes in arms? You are like nephews to me, the pair of you! And Lady Pen-ii, do not feel embarrassed. You are most gracious and courteous, and I thank you for it."

"I am still the same elleth you have shared a tent with all these weeks, Pen-ii." Arwen smiled.

"I am so very happy for you," Penny replied.

She had an urge to hug her, just as Mireth had done, but hesitated for a moment. Then there was something in the twinkle of Arwen's eye that made her throw caution to the wind, hugging her and kissing her cheek. She did not notice the few raised eyebrows from Gondorian nobles near them who nudged each other and whispered.

"You have been such a good friend to me these past months, I cannot thank you enough. May Eru bless your marriage and Elbereth smile upon it."

"Ah, that was well said, Pen-ii!" Aragorn grinned.

They chatted for a few minutes, in a small group, Penny hanging back a little. Eleniel had joined them, as well as Rhimlath who kissed Arwen's hand most decorously and inclined his head to Aragorn very deeply. It was clear he had a deep respect for him, even if he was mortal: the exception to the rule, no doubt.

"I have written an ode in honour of this occasion," he said.

"And I would be delighted to hear it, Rhimlath. I believe there will be some little dancing first, but later you must indeed entertain us with your poetic skill."

Rhimlath seemed slightly put out that he could not recite it at them then and there. Penny noticed Lindir exchange a glance with Eleniel and the two nearly break out into hysterical sniggering.

The royal couple moved on.

"What was so funny?" Penny hissed at Lindir once Rhimlath was out of earshot (now shadowing Aragorn all the way to the gilded chairs and wondering loudly if vulgar dancing were really the sort of thing for such an auspicious moment and if not some skilfully wrought poetry of the ancient style would not be more in keeping).

"Ah, well, it is only that I know the sort of 'ode' Rhimlath has a liking for."

"Meaning?"

"Oh, I have just realised who that was," Arvain interrupted. "Is that the ellon you said was taking Erestor to task over Weston, Pen-ii?"

Penny nodded as Lindir answered her question.

"Well, it will be very long, very dry and written in the most obscure Quenya he can think of."

Penny, Halladan and Arvain blinked.

"Oh," they all said at once.

"Yes, I would find yourselves very comfortable seats once you see him stand to read it. You may be there for some time."

"Is this not just artistic jealousy speaking?"

"No, it is not, Celebdor!"

The others laughed.

"It is a fair question, perhaps, Celebdor," Eleniel replied. "But I remember a reading Rhimlath gave one summer festival in Lothlorien, and even the Lord and Lady of the Wood seemed hard pressed to smile so fixedly for that long."

"I am sure by mortal standards it was beautiful," Penny pointed out.

"Oh, very probably," Lindir said a little too glibly for Penny's taste. "It is true we elves are exacting in our tastes."

"I would never have noticed," muttered Penny sarcastically.

She caught Arvain and Halladan's glances in her direction and all three sniggered.

The moment Aragorn and Arwen were settled in their chairs, the minstrels stopped playing for a few minutes, clearly preparing themselves, and couples slowly made their way to the centre of the hall while everyone else cleared off to the sides. Eleniel had gone to sit with Galadriel and Arwen for a while. Lindir and Celebdor had disappeared to get cups of wine for them all, bringing Faelon back with them who, just like the brothers, made a big show of complimenting Penny as well as Mireth.

Then the minstrels started up again.

"Would you do me the honour of a dance, Lady Pen-ii?"

"Oh, ah, well, Lord Arvain, I am not terribly-"

"The best way to get Lady Pen-ii to dance is simply to grab her hand and drag her to the centre of the Hall," Lindir interrupted.

"Lindir!"

"You have to admit he has a point, Pen-ii," Celebdor said.

"Even Rumil used the same tactics," Mireth pointed out.

"That was only because Lindir encouraged him."

"I did no such thing!"

"You most certainly did! And I have yet to pay you back for it, too! You could have rescued me and instead you insisted it was a superb idea."

Lindir raised an eyebrow. "'Pay me back'? I am not sure I like the sound of that…"

"Yes, I would be concerned if I were you, Lindir," Penny replied. "I am waiting for a good opportunity, but mark my words, I will not let you get away with it."

Faelon roared. "Ai, Lindir, has it taken this many centuries for you to have finally met your match at last?"

The others were grinning.

"Oh, I am no match for Lindir and he knows it. I defer to his expertise when it comes to playing the fool."

More laughter met that and gasps of mock outrage from Lindir.

"Just for that, young lady…" He thrust his cup out at Celebdor, who barely had time to grab hold of it and stop it from spilling wine down his tunic, and grabbed Penny by the wrist. "A dance, I think."

"What! No!"

"Oh, come now, Lindir, if she does not wish to…" Halladan was laughing.

Lindir released his hold. "Very well. I will wait till she has had more to drink and _then_ take her for a spin for a few fast dances, I think."

Penny glared at him. "You would not dare."

"Try me."

"Argh! You are impossible!"

"Come, Lindir, I will have a dance with you." Mireth held out her hand.

Celebdor looked crestfallen. "B-but I had hoped I would have the first-"

"You have two cups of wine in your hands," Lindir pointed out, already making his way through the throng with Celebdor's fiancée in tow.

Mireth slipped her hand from Lindir's arm, stepped over to Celebdor, kissed him on the cheek and then was lost into the crowd.

Arvain was chuckling and shaking his head. "Will you really not have a dance?"

"Well, perhaps a little later once I have got the courage in me. I am not terribly good, I have to warn you, and unless it is a slow tune and easy steps I will make an awful mess of it."

Arvain grinned. "Oh, is that all? You just need practise, then. And in that case I would be happy to oblige, indeed I shall insist upon it."

She glanced at him. "You sound exactly like Lindir."

Halladan laughed. "You must not let my brother bully you, Pen-ii."

"Oh, no, not at all. If I can bear Lindir's teasing, then I can bear anyone's."

"I was not bullying," Arvain began to protest, but he was suddenly interrupted and distracted by a gaggle of Gondorian ladies who had approached him, clearly in the hope of getting a dance.

"Oh, but of course, Lady Sìdhwen" he said immediately to the lady nearest him, holding out his hand for her with a broad grin. She flushed shyly (which, given she had come up to him to ask him to dance seemed completely incongruous) and, with a look of triumph cast over her shoulder at her companions swanned off with Arvain into the crowd. The others looked hopefully in Celebdor and Faelon's directions, both of whom did the gentlemanly thing and offered their arms, setting their drinks down on benches behind them.

Halladan had studiously ignored them all, so the remaining two women wandered off to find a pair of unsuspecting males to partner up with.

"I take it you are not up to dancing?"

Halladan glanced down at his stick. "No. Well, perhaps one or two of the slower turns if I was careful, but not overmuch, no."

Penny nodded, suddenly aware of the lack of conversation between them.

"Shall we sit?" He gestured to the benches nearby left up against the wall.

So they sat, quietly, side by side, watching the crowd laughing and talking, drinking and dancing. Penny wondered why Halladan was not more involved. It could not be due solely to his leg.

"Such a momentous day," she said at last. "It is wonderful to be here. A privilege."

"Indeed. I do not doubt it. I am pleased beyond measure for Aragorn and Arwen. Truly. This day is a glorious one for them and for all who love them both. And who, of those that know them, does not love them, even if they have only met them for a moment."

They exchanged a smile. There was a hint of sadness about Halladan's, though.

"You wish your father were here to witness it, perhaps?" she said quietly.

He broke his gaze away from hers and looked into his cup. He sighed. "And my brother. But, yes, my father and Aragorn were very close. As close as brothers might be. Aragorn still mourns his passing, as do I."

"As does Arvain, I am sure, and all who ever knew him."

He glanced at her, smiled thinly, acknowledging her admitting her own grief, and went back to staring into his wine.

"Come now, Lady Pen-ii, I will not take 'no' for an answer. This next will be a slow one, I promise you."

Arvain was standing in front of her, hand outstretched and with a determined look on his face that was strangely reminiscent of his father and told Penny he would brook no argument. She glanced at Halladan, uncertain, not wishing to leave him alone. Halladan smiled.

"Go! Go dance, Lady Pen-ii. Today is a day of celebration!"

"So celebrate, brother!" Arvain laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder. "Find some lovely young lady of Gondor to hop next to."

Halladan raised an eyebrow. "Hop? You mock me, brother?"

"But of course!" Arvain grinned. "Oh, come, Halladan, must you be such a misery on today of all days?"

Halladan nodded, seemingly more to himself than anyone else. "You are right, Arvain, you are right." He forced a smile and heaved himself up from the bench with his stick. "I shall not find a 'lovely young lady,' though. I shall leave such flirtation to you since you seem so very good at it." Arvain smirked, and Penny wondered what this new word was that Halladan had just used that Arvain seemed to find so amusing. She could guess at the meaning, though. "Rather, I shall find good company with which to have a pipe and share some wine." He glanced up. "Ah, and here is just the person! Mithrandir!"

"Come, Pen-ii, or we will miss this dance," Arvain offered her his arm.

"Oh… yes…" But she hesitated as Gandalf drew near.

"Lady Pen-ii! At last I get to greet you. You left so very early last night I had no opportunity. Well met! Well met, indeed."

Penny was so pleased to see him, had so much to say and yet could not speak at all openly, indeed felt slightly thrown at seeing him like this. She opened her mouth to say something, but Gandalf just rattled on.

"You are looking very well for your sojourn with the elves. I heard of your illness, of course, but I can see life in Imladris has suited you. You are looking most delightful today, might I add, most fetching."

Penny, meanwhile, flushed with shyness. "Oh, nonsense. A pretty dress and a few pearls in the hair could make even an orc look good," she muttered.

Arvain laughed out loud. "I sincerely doubt it. I take it you have never seen an orc, Lady Pen-ii, or you would not say such a thing."

"Oh, but she has." Lindir was back. "She insisted. Did you not, Pen-ii?"

"Did she now?" Gandalf looked at her with intense curiosity.

"She regretted it, of course, but she can not say we did not try and warn her…"

"Do not embarrass me, Lindir."

"Pay her no heed, gentlemen, I shall tell you later."

"You will not!"

"Pen-ii…"

"Bloody elves!"

"Yes, you really _must_ translate that for me sometime. Judging by the way Mithrandir's eyebrows have just flown up to meet his hairline, it is nearly as bad as I feared." Lindir was chuckling as he fetched his wine.

"You are missing your dance, Arvain," Halladan said quietly. There was an amused glint in his eye.

Penny looked at him gratefully.

"Oh, yes, indeed. They have already started. Come along, Lady Pen-ii, we can just squeeze in behind Celebdor and Mireth." So saying, Arvain pulled her briskly towards the centre of the Hall.

She was going to have a dance, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Just a reminder of the hobbits names in Westron: Frodo is 'Maura', Samwise is 'Banazir' or 'Ban', Meriadoc is 'Kalimac' or 'Kali', and Peregrin is 'Razanur' or 'Raz'.

I have used LaCE ('Laws and Customs of Elves', HoME) as my reference for the wedding details. Given with Arwen wearing the Ring of Barahir and Galadriel giving the Elessar Stone it is clear the engagement at least was done on elvish terms, thus no doubt the wedding would have been also. It is fair to assume, also, that the Numenoreans no doubt would have used a wedding ceremony similar to if not the same as the elvish one (given their heritage), it is not unreasonable therefore to suggest that the Gondorian ceremony would also have been the same or similar. Hence double the reason to stick by LaCE in my book: _"Then at a feast, again shared by the two houses, the marriage was celebrated. At the end of the feast the betrothed stood forth, and the mother of the bride and the father of the bridegroom joined the hands of the pair and blessed them. For this blessing there was a solemn form, but no mortal has heard it; though the Eldar say that Varda was named in witness by the mother and Manwe by the father; and moreover that the name of Eru was spoken (as was seldom done at any other time). The betrothed then received back one from the other their silver rings (and treasured them); but they gave in exchange slender rings of gold, which were worn upon the index of the right hand. Among the Noldor also it was a custom that the bride's mother should give to the bridegroom a jewel upon a chain or collar; and the bridegroom's father should give a like gift to the bride. These gifts were sometimes given before the feast. (Thus the gift of Galadriel to Aragorn, since she was in place of Arwen's mother, was in part a bridal gift and earnest of the wedding that was later accomplished.)"_ (Yes, I know JRRT was considering an alternative reason for the Elessar being given – namely Gandalf bringing it with him for the King and Galadriel only holding it in safe-keeping, but that's not the point. ;P)

We don't know Gilraen didn't have a sister. /looks shifty/ I thought that it would be more fitting a Dunadan stand in for Arathorn than Elrond. Apart from the fact that Elrond is father to the bride, Aragorn's Dunedain lineage and all he stands for is a very important part of who he is, why he is king and why is being allowed to marry Arwen, daughter of the ellon who could have been High-King if he had wanted to be. Anyway, please note I made it a cousin by his mother's side, and thus someone not eligible or close to the royal lineage. Thus I hope I have not mangled canon too horribly, and stick it down to poetic licence. /cowers/


	24. Wine, Women and Song

Advance author's note: Right, well, I would if I could, but you said I mustn't so I won't. Thus, this is me not apologising. … /hides/

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 24 **– Wine, Women and Song

Arvain turned out to be a very good dancer.

As did Faelon, who offered Penny his arm as soon as she had finished (and whom she did not feel she could very well refuse, given she had just danced with Arvain).

After which, almost inevitably, Lindir would not be refused either. Nor Celebdor. Nor Rhimlath. Nor Arvain (once more), who said he would teach her a slightly faster dance tune as it started up. Nor one or two Dúnedain who, it transpired, had been chivvied into asking her by Arvain and Lindir between them. Even Elladan muscled in on the act, laughingly saying he had 'better take advantage of Penny actually accepting dances for once before it never happened again in her lifetime.'

Penny found she was actually enjoying herself. Having had a little bit of practice in Imladris and Lothlorien (as well as Rohan, though she barely remembered it) helped to lessen her nerves. She was just thankful that Gondorian dance steps were not overly complex or exuberant. Presumably the more bouncy stuff was being indulged in down in the first level of the city. Up here in the rarefied atmosphere of the wealthy and well-to-do, things were slightly more staid.

(Or at least they would be until a little later in the evening once a bit more wine and mead had been drunk by dancers and minstrels alike).

After an hour of almost non-stop dancing, though, she had to sit down. She had finished yet another dance with Arvain and Lindir had stepped over to her with a grin as the last notes echoed up into the roof rafters. His face quickly turned to concern, though, as Penny's responding smile seemed a little wobbly and feeble.

"Come and rest," he said quickly. "I had forgotten it has been a while since you were used to such exertion."

Mireth fussed over her, of course, and banned her from dancing for a while. Lindir joked that Penny was probably quite pleased to hear her say that, and was astonished when Penny said she had been enjoying it.

"I do not believe it! At long last! I knew if I persevered she would-"

"I helped," Arvain pointed out.

"Yes, indeed," Lindir conceded, "Between the two of us we have-"

"I note I am not acknowledged in having a hand in it at all." Penny sounded rather put out.

"Of course not," Lindir retorted. "If we had not bullied…"

"And coerced…" Celebdor added

"And insisted…" Arvain continued

"She would not be in the state of near exhaustion she is now!" Mireth finished for them.

"Ah…"

"Well…"

"Um…"

"'Near exhaustion' is something of an exaggeration, Mireth," Penny pointed out, but she was still relegated to the bench for a good while.

After another hour or two (during which Penny had a few more dances, despite Mireth's protests), the same Gondorian who had tried to organise the seating for the feast clapped his hands in the direction of the balcony, and made signals at the minstrels that they could have a break.

Penny decided she needed some air, as well as to answer nature's call, and she, Mireth and Eleniel ambled off together to find the nearest latrines. They left behind them a group of males, mortal and immortal, all shaking their heads and wondering why it was females always needed to do these sorts of things in groups.

When they returned, they found Lindir, Halladan, Arvain, Rhimlath and Erestor all in a group. It was clear a sort of impromptu recital had started up. Everyone was listening to three small boys standing in front of the royal couple and singing in high, tremulous voices while a rather thin, bony Gondorian kept time with his hands beside them.

One after another, singers, musicians or poets stood forth. Much was impromptu, with a particular person being pushed forward by their friends, or else a certain piece being asked of a well-known artist. A harpist from Dol Amroth, in the city visiting her mother, played a beautiful tune that Lindir murmured he would have to learn before he left. Lindir himself, of course, had his turn, at the request of many there, including the King and Queen. The Great Hall went completely silent as everyone listened with rapt attention as he sang, unaccompanied, of a long unrequited love joined at last.

At last Rhimlath got up at Aragorn's behest. Penny did not doubt that to many there he seemed tall, beautiful and terribly impressive as he made his way to the centre of the Hall where everyone could see him, picking off an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve and smoothing down his hair. To Penny, though, he had that supercilious look about him, a slight smug arch to one eyebrow, that told her he considered whatever he was about to recite to be his finest work. She whispered as much to Erestor.

"Oh, he always thinks his latest piece is his finest work," Erestor replied. "He is forever perfecting his craft." He said this last comment with a perfectly straight face, but Penny could see the hint of laughter in his eye.

The ode, just as Lindir had predicted, was indeed very long. By the end of it Penny could feel her backside going numb against the wooden bench she was parked on.

It was also utterly incomprehensible to most there since, again as Lindir had predicted, it was entirely in Quenya. Erestor tutted once or twice and shook his head as if noting a wrongly inflected noun here or a badly declined verb there. Penny was not sure she wanted to be around if Rhimlath asked for Erestor's opinion afterwards because she did not doubt for one moment Erestor would give it to him, in length and in detail.

As far as she was concerned, though, it sounded wonderful. She made a point of telling him so afterwards, too, because she felt sure from the expressions on Lindir's and Erestor's faces that they were about to tease him mercilessly.

"Really? You enjoyed it? I am pleasantly surprised, I must say. How gratifying. I mean, of course, you could not possibly have understood it, far too lofty a theme for a mortal to truly grasp in any sort of depth even if you were capable of understanding Quenya…"

Penny sighed. She was not sure why she had bothered.

Clearly it was felt a change of mood was called for after that, though, and there were no more recitations or songs. Everyone was asked to slowly make their way outside in the courtyard for a little while so that the servants had space to bring the tables back in and ready everything for the evening feast. Penny did wonder if Rhimlath's lengthy piece of 'high art' had simply killed the recital flat, though she would not have dared tell him so. Erestor, however, had no such qualms and loudly pointed out to Rhimlath how everyone seemed in an awful hurry to declare an end to the proceedings after he was done.

"Only because they realise no one could possibly match such a work," Rhimlath replied imperiously.

"Oh, I think that is very likely the cause… Though perhaps not for the reasons you may think, Rhimlath."

The smirk Lindir threw in Erestor's direction as he said this was matched by Erestor's own, who then covered his laughter with a cough.

"I notice it is rare indeed when _you_ attempt a work in Quenya," Rhimlath retorted.

Lindir narrowed his eyes. "I have written several songs in Quenya as you well know, and one which even Gil-galad himself -"

"Oh, forgive me, Lindir," Rhilmath snorted, "but you know as well as I that Gil-galad was always most courteous and generous to the youngsters under his command whether it was warranted or not. It was very kind of him to humour you so, but -"

"_Humour_?" Lindir looked livid.

"- but in truth, you have to admit that his doing so only served to encourage you in some really rather basic errors and lackadaisical phrasing -"

If Lindir had had a conniption fit then and there on the spot it would not have surprised Penny in the least.

"You declined 'forebear' incorrectly," Erestor cut in. "And I have no idea what you meant in the line about 'begetting starlight in spite of buttery pools' or some such nonsense. Muddling up your vocabulary lists again, no doubt. I have warned you before about insisting on making your own rather than sticking to the tried and tested grammars."

Rhimlath flushed hotly.

Arvain looked at Penny with one eyebrow raised. "Are they always like this?"

Halladan, Penny and he were hanging back a little as the bickering ellyn walked ahead of them.

"Believe me, Arvain, the Westron lessons were far worse. It was most trying, to say the least. It was why I refused to attend the lessons in the end."

"I am not sure I blame you," Halladan muttered.

They made their way down the steps and into the melee. Halladan and Arvain left Penny with Erestor and Lindir while they peeled Rhimlath off to introduce him to some Dúnedain before the three ellyn fell out completely.

In the crowd spirits were high. People slowly trundled down the steps and spread out to fill the courtyard in little groups where the conversations were filled with extravagant stories and laughter. After a little while, Lindir, still smarting over the denigration of his Quenyan skills, disappeared off somewhere, no doubt to hunt down Rhimlath and finish their row. At the same time, Legolas happened to pass by and was engaged in conversation by Erestor. Thus, Penny found herself alone with them both for a moment.

She decided to take the opportunity to say something.

"Lord Legolas, I wanted to ask you… That is I feel I owe you… Perhaps this is not the time, but I have to tell you…"

Legolas looked at her with a shrewd gaze. He could guess what she wanted to say. He smiled.

"I have not forgotten my promise, Lady Pen-ii. Do not fear. I stand by it."

Penny let out a sigh of relief, her eyes closing for a moment before she opened them once more and looked gratefully at him.

"Thank you, Lord Legolas, that means much to me."

Legolas nodded. "I understand you wish to talk of all that has passed. I would be most interested to learn more from you also, as would Mithrandir and King Elessar, I do not doubt, but…"

"There will be time enough to discuss this after today's festivities," Erestor said kindly. "Try not to trouble yourself about such things today, Pen-ii."

"Indeed, as Erestor says, today is a day to forget such trials and dangers as have been faced so very recently. It must be difficult for you, perhaps, but there is enough enjoyment to be had this day to allow you to forget for a while, no?"

"You are both correct, of course. Forgive me for mentioning it."

"Not at all, Pen-ii," Erestor laughed gently. "I am surprised you have restrained yourself this long, in all honesty, nor are you to be blamed. Legolas is correct: Mithrandir knows of your desire to speak with him, and I do not doubt that he and Estel will strive to make time for you as soon as they may. However this," he waved around him in an expansive manner, "takes priority for today, as I am sure you appreciate."

"It is a momentous day."

"It is indeed. I saw you dancing earlier. You seemed as if you were enjoying yourself." There was a note of surprise in his voice, and the hint of a smirk on his lips.

"Are you mocking me, Lord Erestor?"

"What? No! No, not at all! Surprised, perhaps, that you were so willing, that is all. Could it be that Lindir has finally cured you?"

"'Cured'?" Legolas looked bemused.

"Oh, Lady Pen-ii here is famed for her reluctance to dance. … Well, unless it be down the hills of Rohan, that is." He chuckled.

Penny looked appalled, flushing bright red, and glanced at Legolas, wondering what on earth he would make of it all.

"Oh, yes, I heard all about that!" Legolas laughed. "I am sorry to have missed it!"

'Damn, bloody, gossipy elves!' Penny fumed. 'Can never keep a damn thing to themselves!'

Legolas noted the brief flash of fury across her face which just made him laugh even more.

"Ai, you must know how we are by now, Lady Pen-ii. It is hard to keep anything quiet among elves if it is a story that will entertain." He grinned. "Especially if Lindir has anything to do with it."

Penny made a mental note to take Lindir to task at the earliest opportunity.

"Well, if you are 'cured,' as Lord Erestor suggests," Legolas continued, "then you will do me the honour of a dance later this evening perhaps?"

"Oh, ah, well, if you insist, um, it would be churlish to refuse…"

Erestor laughed out loud. "Not cured entirely, it would seem!"

"What is this? Is Lady Pen-ii still unwell? I hope not, indeed."

"No, no, Estel, I was talking of Penny being cured of her dislike of dancing."

"Ah." Aragorn grinned. "Yes, that is as it should be. I would not have anyone not dance on my wedding day. I trust you are enjoying yourself, Pen-ii?"

"Who could not, with such wonderful entertainment in such beautiful surroundings?"

"She has this knack of saying the right thing, does she not?" Aragorn turned to Erestor with a grin. "I say she will fit in very well in court."

"Oh, but I mean it."

Penny decided not to react to the implied understanding between Aragorn and Erestor that her staying in Minas Tirith was a 'fait accomplis'. Now was not the time.

"I do not doubt you do. It must be… an experience for you to be here after all you have read and heard of this place."

The words were innocuous enough, perhaps, but the meaning was glaringly obvious to all four of those standing there. Penny nodded dumbly for a second.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Suddenly Eleniel pushed her way past Legolas.

"Pen-ii? Ah, there you are!"

She grabbed Penny's hand and started to pull her away. At the same time, Arwen, who had just arrived at Aragorn's side, had barely had time to say two words to him before Mireth did the same thing to her. Immediately both she and Penny were being dragged through the crowd, without explanation, and leaving the astonished males in their wake.

It was quickly apparent what the fuss was about, though.

A great group of ellith were dancing and singing in a sort of reel at the far end of the courtyard. As soon as Arwen realised what was going on, she picked up her skirts with one hand and, hand in hand with Mireth, ran to join in, the pair laughing gaily as they did so. Penny and Eleniel joined the end of one line, Penny clapping in time to the tune and trying to take notice of the steps.

Both the dance and the tune were easy enough, though. More and more ellith joined them, and any passing lady of Gondor was grabbed and roped in as well. Pretty soon nearly every female there was involved, laughing, singing and skipping round each other in great twists and formations that folded in on themselves, reformed and folded once more. Even Galadriel passed Penny by on several occasions, suddenly looking a lot sprightlier than Penny ever remembered seeing her before.

The males all stood and watched - the mortals bemused yet enchanted and the immortals smiling broadly. Many were clapping along in time to the song as well. If any male she knew caught Penny's eye, they nodded and smiled broadly to see her as such an enthusiastic member of this brief moment of enjoyable silliness. Halladan was chuckling and shaking his head at her as she whirled past him.

Inexorably the females were making their way across the courtyard. Then at some point Aragorn was reached and either pulled by his hand to join them or else somehow the dance enveloped him by design. Penny was not sure which and, judging by the expression on Aragorn's face, neither was he, since he seemed quite bewildered to find himself suddenly in the middle of it all. At the same time Arwen was left standing alone, facing him, even as the women danced, sang and twirled around them.

Then, all of a sudden, the singing reached a long, high note at the end of the chorus. Aragorn instinctively caught Arwen round the waist as she stepped up to him, and then she leaned forward and kissed him. In that same moment, the dancing and singing stopped and everyone exploded into laughter and applause, while the bride and groom were briefly left locked in an embrace in the middle of them all.

"It is a silly thing that the younger elves might do in play or else in summer festivals. We often do this at a wedding, just for the enjoyment of it." Eleniel was grinning hugely as she explained to Penny and anyone else who cared to listen.

"Ah, does it not set such a romantic mood?" Mireth had one arm round Celebdor's waist, her head against his chest. Celebdor looked like the cat that had got the cream.

But then so did Aragorn a little way behind him, seemingly a little reluctant to let Arwen out of his arms, who was laughing and denying all responsibility for the dance.

"I was taken just as much by surprise as you."

"Yes, but you knew well enough what it would lead up to, did you not?"

"Perhaps." She giggled.

"I see." Aragorn raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case…" He pulled her close and kissed her once again.

There was a discreet cough nearby.

"Your Majesty?" It was Faramir, with the Gondorian Maitre D' (as Penny now thought of the poor man trying to organise everything and keep some semblance of order about the proceedings) hovering next to him. "Forgive me, but everything is readied."

"Ah, very good, Faramir. Thank you, Dúrion, you may let everyone know." Dúrion scuttled off to see if this time he could get a more organised seating arrangement. It was an exercise in futility, but he was determined nonetheless.

"Lord Faramir, I do not believe you have yet met Lady Pen-ii. She travelled south with Lord Elrond. She has been a guest in Imladris for many months – indeed, since before I began my journey indeed."

Faramir inclined his head most graciously, his hand across his breast.

"It is an honour," he said. "If that is the case, then you must have met my brother, Lord Boromir."

Penny was not sure how she managed it, but she did not bat an eyelid as he said this. She noticed those near her looking at her as if to gauge her response to Faramir's comment. She did not doubt that Aragorn had guessed long ago what the true reason for her avoiding Boromir had been, but others such as Celebdor could not be wholly certain (though they knew now she had had some foreknowledge so perhaps could have put two and two together).

"I did indeed. The honour is all mine to meet the brother of so noble a man as he. He was always most gracious and kind to me, even though at that time I knew no Sindarin and we could not properly converse. I… I was so sorry to hear of his fall." Okay, now she was faltering, she could feel it. This was the wrong thing to have said. The wrong thing and the wrong time. She fought to keep a grip. "He was a great man, Lord Faramir, of that I have no doubt."

Faramir nodded and smiled, thanking her for her kind words.

As everyone slowly made their way back towards the Hall, Penny felt a gentle tug on her sleeve. It was Aragorn. He bent to murmur quietly into her ear.

"Well said, Lady Pen-ii. Boromir was indeed an honourable man. I grew to love him as a brother."

She gave him a faltering smile. "I know you did."

He nodded. "Tomorrow, Pen-ii. I know you have much you wish to discuss, and I with you. Tomorrow, I promise you."

Penny was surprised. "So soon? I mean, is there no tradition of…" She realised she knew no word for 'honeymoon' or even 'holiday'. "Um… well, the bride and groom, do they not… have time alone for a few days at least?"

"The business of state continues, married or no, Pen-ii." Aragorn laughed quietly. "I will not be rushing out to battle for a few days if I can possibly help it, of course, but otherwise I think I can perhaps spare you an hour or so." He smiled. "If Arwen will allow me the time, that is," he added with a grin in Arwen's direction. She smiled and shook her head at him slightly, then laughed.

Penny was sure she did not want to know, thank you very much.

The evening feast was just as sumptuous as the earlier one. Minstrels entertained with songs throughout, the wine flowed and the conversation seemed to slowly increase in volume as the evening wore on. A few speeches were said and toasts drunk. Faramir spoke very movingly on how proud he was to be part of this historic moment, how pleased the people of Gondor were to at last have their King returned and that such a beautiful wife of such a noble race would do both King and country great credit and honour. It went down very well with the elves, who nodded and murmured appreciatively and declared they could understand entirely what Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas saw in him.

Afterwards, just as before, most of the tables were removed and the few that remained pushed to the sides so that there was space for dancing. This time Penny had no excuses to make to anyone who asked for a dance and Arvain got in first, deaf to Mireth's insistence that Penny take it easy and not overdo it.

Legolas got his dance, Elrohir insisted he have must have one since his brother had had one that afternoon, Faelon got two, and even Glorfindel got in on the act. He proved himself to be another Rúmil by practically dragging her round the room to a fast-paced tune with her feet a good two inches off the floor for most of it.

If that were not enough, Penny even had one or two offers to dance from Gondorians, all of whom Penny did not know or had only just met. Of course, this was due to the fact that not only was she 'the woman who had arrived in the company of elves', she was also 'the woman who was clearly an intimate friend of the Queen, given she had hugged and kissed her' as well as the woman who, it appeared, 'was on first name terms with the King, Mithrandir, various Dúnedain and every one of the higher-ranking elves, don't you know.'

Penny knew none of this, of course. The elves were friends, the Dúnedain were friends of friends, but the Gondorians had no need to ask her to dance to make her feel good or be friendly, so she reasoned. Thus, for the first time that day, she felt genuinely flattered.

It was all rather spoilt, however, when a slightly portly, middle-aged (but rather grand) gentleman sedately led her round the marbled, inlaid floor, and at the same time tried to grill her on Lord Elrond, Lothlorien and how she knew the King so well. Thus Penny at last guessed the true reason for her new-found popularity as a dance partner amongst the men of Gondor.

Still, it was nice to be asked.

At the same time as her reputation was rising amongst some of the Gondorian lords, though, so it was slowly becoming mud with a few of the women. They too had noticed this foreigner stepping round the dance floor on the arm of various elvish and Dúnedain lords, and they were not amused. That Penny had managed to get a dance out of both Elladan and Elrohir without so much as a flutter of her eyelashes had one or two positively seething, since they had tried (and failed) to interest the brothers in all the time they had been in Minas Tirith before leaving for Rohan.

That said, however, there were more than enough ellyn to go round. The Dúnedain had taken their fair share of 'interest' from the ladies of Gondor since the War, but now with a room full of ellyn as well as the striking men of the North, the unattached women of Minas Tirith were nearly beside themselves and hardly knew where to look. Even the married women got a bit flustered at points, much to their husbands' irritation.

The younger the unattached maids of Gondor were, the sillier they were about it all, with much huddling together, and conspiratorial whispering and nudging whenever an ellon walked past. An explosion of hysterical giggling would break out if one of them was actually asked to dance, from both the one asked (who would go as red as a beetroot) as well as all her friends.

Slightly more dangerous were the older young maidens of marrying age, who circled the room like sharks on the hunt. Lady Sìdhwen, the damsel who had danced the first dance with Arvain in the afternoon, was one of these. Each time Arvain dragged Penny up to dance, Lady Sìdhwen would watch them stroll past her with cold, hard stare.

The most unabashed of all (and amusing, depending on your point of view) were the widows. To be fair, it was only those who had long been widowed, or those who, if recently bereaved in the War, had thought theirs was no great loss. By late in the evening, when a little too much wine had been had, more than one would have to be practically peeled off an alarmed looking ellon by her friends, profusely apologetic as they dragged her out for some air.

Penny was having a sit down. It was still relatively early, with dusk only just having fallen outside, but already the long day was beginning to take its toll and she was not sure how much longer she would last. Give it an hour at most and she was likely to call it a night, she suspected.

Eleniel was trying to persuade Lindir to have a dance.

"I have just got a refill of wine, Eleniel. The dance after this one, I promise."

Eleniel made an exasperated noise, and looked around to see who else might be free when she found herself surrounded by four Gondorian nobles who 'just happened to have overheard' and all offering their arms.

"Why, how very kind of you," Eleniel said quietly, lowering her gaze shyly as she took the arm of the one nearest to her.

The young man she had chosen, probably no more than twenty-two if that, puffed out his chest with pride, and could not have had a wider grin on his face if he had tried. The remaining three looked most put out. One turned to Penny, but even as he opened his mouth she held her hand.

"I thank you, but no. I am sitting this one out."

She smiled, he bowed his head and went on his way, passing by Halladan as he did so who was slowly making his way over to them.

"Not dancing, Pen-ii?"

"No, not for this tune, Halladan."

"May I join you?"

"But of course."

She shuffled over on the bench to make enough space for him. He sat rather heavily, keeping his bad leg stuck out in front of him, and then leant his stick up against the pillar next to him. Lindir handed him a cup and, producing a jug of wine from under the bench next to Penny, filled it for him.

Even as the music started up, Arvain appeared, backing away from a bevy of beauties, with his hands up.

"Ladies, ladies, I am most flattered, but I really must have a rest and some wine."

"Oh, now, Lord Arvain, you are most unfair. I have been waiting an Age for a dance with you!"

"Now, Lady Sìdhwen, that is not quite true. I danced with you earlier in the evening, did I not?"

"Twice hardly counts, Lord Arvain," she simpered. "Please? You would not refuse me, would you? Otherwise I shall have to dance with my brother again, and he is such a brute with his great feet. He has no finesse at all." She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "Not like you."

Penny had to suppress a laugh. Lady Sìdhwen was using Westron, so Penny only understood the odd word, but even so it was still painfully obvious she was ladling it on in bucket loads. Subtle was clearly not a word in her vocabulary. Penny glanced up to see Lindir had turned away, with his hand to his mouth and he was just as on the edge of a fit of the giggles as she was.

"Who am I to refuse such a charming lady such as yourself?" Arvain bowed slightly, taking her hand in his and kissing it graciously. Lady Sìdhwen put on her best 'demure' expression as she allowed him to take her arm.

Penny pulled a face. Halladan laughed out loud, and Lindir choked into his wine.

"He is rather popular, is he not?" Penny smirked.

"He does his best to encourage it."

"So I see," sniggered Lindir. "Ai, the folly of youth."

"Indeed." Halladan chuckled.

"But he is older than I am, surely?"

"Only by a few years, Pen-ii." Halladan replied.

"I take it he is not married?"

"No, indeed! If he were married and behaving in such a manner, he would have me to answer to for a start." Halladan laughed. "No, there is no sweet young thing waiting for him in the North, so he can allow himself a dance or several with the fair maids of Gondor with impunity."

Penny wondered if she had found the answer as to why Halladan was so reluctant to dance or be more jovial. "And you, Halladan? You have a wife?"

"Me? No, no." He smiled. "There has been little time to think of such things up till now. Too much work to be done."

"The Dúnedain do not marry as young as other mortals, Pen-ii. I am sure you know that."

"Was it a foolish question? I do apologise…"

"Not at all, Pen-ii. After all Hirvell was betrothed, was he not, Halladan?"

There was a strained look about Halladan all of a sudden. "No. No, he never asked her, Lindir."

"Oh. But I had thought…"

"No, he decided against it. Decided he would wait until after the War. He was concerned that if something should happen… that it would be a greater burden to her if they had made that commitment…" He fell silent, very obviously struggling to keep reign on his emotions. He coughed slightly. "Forgive me, I…"

"No need, my friend," said Lindir quietly.

Halladan put down his cup.

"If you will excuse me, perhaps I will get some air."

"Forgive me, Halladan, I did not mean to bring up a subject that was painful to you."

"Do not concern yourself, Pen-ii." He smiled gently at her, but she could see the depth of sadness in his eyes, his jaw tight. "A walk will do my leg a little good, that is all." He was a convincing liar.

"Why not have a dance instead?" Lindir suggested.

Halladan blinked at him.

"After all, today is a day of celebration, and Pen-ii is unpartnered for the next dance since I have promised Eleniel and I am sure Arvain will not be free for a while judging from the determined look on Lady Sìdhwen's face."

"Oh, no, Lindir, I am sure Halladan would not wish…"

"Yes, why not, indeed?" Halladan seemed quite grateful for the opportunity to think about something else for a while. "If you could bear a lumbering, one-legged oaf, that is, Pen-ii…"

"You are hardly lumbering or one-legged!"

"Ah, but I may be an oaf?" Penny noticed the glitter of amusement in his eyes.

"Well, I sincerely doubt that you are, but I do not know you well enough as yet, Halladan." She tried to keep a straight face but the hint of a smirk betrayed her.

"Well, then, let us get to know each other a little better." He stood, and held out his hand. "This next dance should be a slow enough one that even I should be able to cope with."

As Penny let him lead her towards the centre of the Hall, she felt rather pleased to have finally got him involved in it all, even if it had been Lindir's suggestion. By the time he was standing opposite her, waiting for the dance to begin with Arvain on one side of him and Lindir on the other, his smile was more relaxed and less fraught than it had been earlier and that could only be a good thing as far as she was concerned.

It did not last.

As the evening wore on, and the wine flowed, so almost inevitably conversations turned in some quarters to toasting of lost friends and comrades. Long tales were told of daring escapades on the battlefield, and songs were sung of glory and death, of honour and blood spilled, how it had all been worth it no matter the cost. Gondor had won, the Enemy was laid low at last and the Shadow that had existed longer than any Gondorian could remember was gone.

Halladan started drinking rather heavily from that point onwards.

Penny was exhausted and really did not need Eleniel insisting she go to bed. She had already made her mind up she would go. She refused to be escorted.

"No, no, Rhimlath, it is only across the courtyard. I am more than capable!"

She waved goodnight to the hobbits - all four sat at one table with a large jug of mead being shared between them all - and weaved her way round the groups of people towards the doors.

"No, Halladan, enough is enough. I think you should call it a night."

"Do _not_ tell me what to do, Arvain!"

"Halladan, be reasonable!"

"I cannot bear this laughter and levity any longer! Get your hands off me! I have no desire to stay and do not need you pulling me out of the doors!"

People round them were looking their way. Arvain and Faelon shared a glance and, as if by silent, mutual agreement, took hold of Halladan by the elbows and steered him out of the doors.

"Let go of me!"

"But of course," Arvain murmured. "Forgive me, brother, but people were starting to stare…"

"So let them stare! Do you think I care one jot what they may think? I am the son of Halbarad, a man who was worth ten of them or more!"

"Faelon? Arvain?" Penny was not sure she should interrupt.

It did have the desired effect, though. Halladan was worse for wear, perhaps, but not so far gone that he could not make some attempt to pull himself together.

"Ah, Pen-ii!" He straightened himself a little and coughed. "Are you leaving so early?"

"I am very tired, Halladan. A long day and I am still not up to full strength."

"But of course, but of course. Please, allow us to escort you to your chambers."

Penny was on the point of refusing but saw the slightly desperate look about Arvain and Faelon. They both seemed to think this would be a rather good idea, so she accepted. Faelon excused himself and headed back into the Hall, and the brothers walked her to her door.

It was a short walk in which little was said. Penny commented on how beautiful the stars were and the brothers murmured their agreement, but that was about it. Halladan seemed to be still glowering with anger, while Arvain was clearly wary that he may explode again at any moment judging from the glances he kept throwing in his brother's direction. Penny felt slightly uncomfortable to be between the two of them, given she was in the middle of something not wholly understood and, very possibly, none of her business.

Soon enough they had reached the door to her lodgings where they bade her goodnight. Halladan was already a little way back up the street when Arvain turned back to Penny.

"You must forgive my brother. He has had a little too much wine and…"

"I understand, Arvain."

"He finds it hard to accept his loss."

"It is your loss also."

Arvain nodded and opened his mouth to say something more, but Halladan had stopped and called his name. He bowed and said goodnight once more, turning to jog up the street to his brother, who held his hand up in farewell to Penny.

"We will see you on the morrow, Pen-ii," Halladan called.

Penny held her hand up to them both by way of reply, before entering the house and heading up to her rooms. Even as she fell asleep that night, though, she wondered what more Arvain would have said to her if Halladan had not interrupted him.

* * *

As ever, my sincere thanks to all who take the time to review, let alone keep reading. I appreciate all your comments, advice, con crit and corrections - keep them coming. 


	25. Like Father Like Son?

**Chapter 25**: _"Like Father Like Son?"_

It was another beautiful morning in Gondor. Penny awoke to find the sun streaming in through the open shutters and Mireth half hanging out the window as she looked down at the city.

"Argh! Do you have to blind me with daylight to wake me?"

Mireth laughed.

"My apologies, I did not intend to rouse you, but it is already well past your usual hour of waking. We let you sleep a little after yesterday's excitement and exertions. The others have already fetched breakfast."

Penny quickly dressed and joined the others in the central room.

Just as they finished their meal, one of the same women who had arrived the previous morning to clean the rooms and help prepare the water for bathing knocked and wandered in. Eleniel asked her for directions to the washing stoop.

"Oh, you are not the only ones today. Most of your party, I warrant, are on their way there or will be soon," she laughed. "You would probably find them easily enough and could just follow them. If you do not mind waiting a little while, though, I can take you myself, so there will be no mistaking it. You will need baskets?"

"We have this left over from breakfast…," one of the ellith began.

"Oh, no, no, no. I will fetch you some bigger ones than that. Will you all be going? Do you have much to wash?"

They decided two or three baskets between them should be more than enough, depending on their size, and soon the woman had returned with three ("just to be on the safe side, and if you ever want some while you are here, they are kept in the little store cupboard beside the washroom downstairs. My niece makes beautiful wickerwork. Not like these, of course, though they are sturdy enough for what you need. She lives down in Dol Amroth, you know…").

While she swept out the room (still chattering all the while, and leaving barely a breath for anyone else to get a word in) and then returned the remains of the breakfast to the buttery, Penny and the others gathered together the dresses and undershifts they had worn in the journey from Lothlorien and were travel-stained and dirty. Then they headed out into the courtyard with the baskets to await the woman's return from the Citadel.

"No, I am sorry, Lord Faramir, it is out of the question."

"Dúrion, you must understand that-"

"We have washerwomen who are more than capable, and I feel sure would be very willing to-"

"This is a delicate matter, Dúrion, the Galadhrim in particular-"

Dúrion looked puzzled.

"The elves from Lothlorien," Faramir explained.

The two men were standing near the patch of grass which had the White Tree and fountain at its centre and were having, if not exactly a heated debate, then certainly a 'moment' between them. Glorfindel and Lindir were standing nearby, the latter with a basket of clothes on the floor beside him, both clearly trying to give Faramir and Dúrion some space. Mireth, Penny, Eleniel and the rest murmured greetings and then took up station on two of the benches beside the fountain where they made a great show of chattering to each other while actually eavesdropping at the same time.

"But surely their womenfolk can wash their tunics and underclothes for them, no?"

Faramir pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed wearily. "The wives of those that are married and who are here with them, perhaps, but as for the rest… As I have explained to you several times already, Dúrion, there is little distinction in elvish society, whether by gender or rank."

The expression on Dúrion's face left no one in any doubt of what he thought of such a state of affairs.

"I cannot possibly cordon off a whole washing stoop for an entire day, or even for the entire duration of our guests' stay, so that elvish lords can strip themselves to their hose and give the good ladies of Minas Tirith something to gawp at and gossip over!"

Dúrion's voice was threatening to rise a good octave in indignation at the very thought, though he was doing his best to hiss this through his teeth so that the elves in the vicinity (all within earshot even for a human) would not hear him.

Penny noticed Lindir glance in her direction at this point and snigger. She glared at him.

"Really, Lord Faramir, it is of no consequence," Glorfindel murmured, trying to placate the situation. "As you say, it is really only some of the Galadhrim that seem a little… wary of mortals washing their things for them."

"They will take great care with them, I can assure you," Dúrion pointed out, bowing his head slightly in deference and to show he meant no offence, was merely trying to be practical.

"I am sure they will," Glorfindel inclined his head a little in return, "But you have to understand that some elves are…

'Fussy? Vain? Obsessive about their appearance?' Penny thought to herself. 'Take your pick of those or half a dozen others.'

"Glorfindel, are _you_ going to explain to Erestor that some young mortal woman he has never met is to wash his breeches for him?" Lindir looked as if he, for one, certainly did not want to be the one to tell him. "Or Rhimlath for that matter? Or a dozen others I could name?"

"What is this? Do you have washing too, my lords? Oh, well, do not worry yourselves about it, just hand it to me and I will get it dealt with."

The servant woman was back from the Citadel and busily taking charge of the situation without so much as a 'by your leave.' She made a quick, deferential nod in the direction of Faramir even as she carried on talking.

"Now, now, do not be shy!" (Lindir had instinctively grabbed the basket at the same time as she had bent to pick it up, but she pulled it out of his grasp). "Do you think I have never washed a pair of hose before? Stuff and nonsense! I am a married woman who has brought five sons into this world. Who is it who keeps the armies of Gondor in clean breeches but the womenfolk back at home, and no mistake!"

She laughed heartily, even while the four males raised eyebrows at such frank and open discussion of undergarments. Dúrion was looking very dark indeed.

"Now look here, my good woman...!" he spluttered, but there was no interrupting her. She did not even register that he had spoken to her.

"We shall take good care of your fine brocades and linens, have no fear. Who shall I send these back to?"

"Er… Lords Glorfindel and Lindir," Lindir faltered, looking utterly bewildered.

"Very good, my lords. I will send servants to the various male quarters to collect the rest then, shall I, my lord Faramir?"

At the same time as Faramir opened his mouth to speak, the woman nodded curtly at him with a broad smile as if acknowledging his agreement before he had even had time to answer. Then she immediately turned and strode off briskly with the basket under her arm.

"Come along, mi-ducks!" she called out to the waiting females who smirked and sniggered in Glorifindel's and Lindir's direction before tripping along behind her.

"Ah… well… I suppose that settles that." Faramir could not look have looked more embarrassed if he had tried.

Only now did Dúrion venture to suggest that the stoop beside the barracks in the first level might have been suitable.

"Given it is sometimes used by the troops, though of course even they have washerwomen who do most of their…" He trailed off as he saw the hard look Faramir was giving him. "But, my lord, noblemen such as these… to have to walk all that way with their... and to be in such a lowly…" He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly in resignation. "Shall I go and fetch back that basket from Mílves?"

"If you please, Dúrion," said Faramir through clenched teeth.

The stoop Mílves led them to (after Dúrion had caught up with her to take back the washing, breathless and wheezing after jogging down the slope to the sixth circle and nearly careering into the guards at the bottom, and even then Mílves would not relinquish it without some argument) was in the fifth circle. It was set inside a courtyard that you got to through either one of two little side lanes off the main thoroughfare, and positioned at the far south side of the circle. It was almost up against the sheer cliff that formed the bridge between the city and the mountain and which was as high as the sixth level at this point, with Fen Hollen almost directly above. The stoop itself was much like the one in Bree, with open sides and a flat, broad roof on pillars. Water trickled through a hole at one end and pooled into a broad, stone-cut channel, on either side of which were angled slabs and steps that reached into the water.

They got down to work.

Several other ellith were already there as well as quite a few locals. Penny ignored the raised eyebrows from the Gondorian women at her using soap. She had long ago got used to everyone thinking it was unnecessary, wasteful and bizarre but was not about to stop any time soon, no matter what anyone else said.

The locals were sociable and chatty, even if they spoke only Westron. Of course, the fact that Penny was human but could speak only Sindarin where most of her elvish counterparts could converse quite happily with the Gondorians was not commented on, but certainly noted as a 'novelty' (for which read 'downright peculiar').

Of course, this sociable morning was positively boring compared to the events surrounding the stoop in the first circle that the ellyn were using.

Some bright spark got wind of who was doing their washing there and let slip that one or two windows in the barracks overlooked it. Lo and behold, within less than an hour, several sisters, daughters, sweethearts, and even wives immediately developed a burning desire to visit their brothers, fathers, beaus, or husbands (even if they were on duty and absent from the barracks at the time), on the pretext of having some urgent news that could not wait, or a seedcake they simply _had_ to bring while fresh, or to ask if they could borrow the mule tomorrow week to visit their aunt in Lebennin.

They brought their friends with them, too.

Fortunately the officer in charge of the barracks (admittedly more by accident than design) happened to waylay the first group that tried this while on their way up the stairs, much to their bitter disappointment.

However, by the time the third such gaggle of women had arrived (including a few who had been denied access once already and had returned with what they thought might be a more believable excuse this time), he smelt a rat and decided guards were to be kept at all entry points to the stoop or anywhere near it. Dúrion happened to be there at the time of this third attempt and exploded, sending the troop of young women away tearful and with fleas in their ears (though this was as nothing compared to the response of the fathers, brothers, beaus and husbands when they heard about it).

The ellyn, hearing the shouting and seeing the sentries, guessed what was up and decided it might be more politic to rely on the washerwomen after all in future, for as both Elrohir and Legolas pointed out, they did an excellent job, and if the King's garments could be trusted with them then why not elvish ones? Not only that but, as Dúrion had tried to make clear, it was indeed a long way to walk through the streets with wet leggings under your arm.

There were still a determinedly belligerent few who insisted they would do their own laundry in the nearest washroom to their lodgings, though. Tunics were one thing, even undertunics perhaps, but having a strange female rifling through your breeches was really too much to ask of an ellon. For one or two (invariably Galadhrim), even letting someone else wash their tunics was too much. "This embroidery is four months' worth of work on the sleeves alone! The idea of letting some fat fingered mortal fishwife paw at it…! It's unconscionable!" Fortunately for those few, enough ellith volunteered to wash their tunics for them and peace was restored (and Dúrion could finally have a lie down in a darkened room to recover from the migraine).

It was lunchtime by the time Penny, Mireth, Eleniel and the others had got back from the stoop. Mílves met them and let them know they could hang out their washing on lines in the little yard at the back of the lodging house.

"No one can overlook this place, never you fear, so you can hang out your undershifts without worrying. Not like the time my sister found some lovesick youth had been stealing her undershifts from off Mother's washing line! Oh, my dears! Have you ever _heard_ of such a thing! Of course, she married him in the end, but I always said her husband was never quite right in the head …"

(Penny decided, once the prattling had been translated by a fairly appalled Eleniel, that Mílves was definitely good entertainment value.)

There was no formality to lunch, though the Great Hall was made available for all the guests to use. At around midday most people wandered over to it to find a fine spread laid out and servants bustling in and out with trays of food and drink. It was mainly elves and Dunedain, though a number of Gondorians nobles were there to play 'host'. Faramir was there, as well as the highest ranking advisors in the court. There was no sign of Aragorn or Arwen.

Penny, Mireth and Eleniel had met Pippin and Merry on the steps outside. Pippin had been on duty all morning and was taking the opportunity of a change in shifts to have a quick bite to eat with his cousin.

Lindir was seated on the opposite side of the Hall with Halladan, Arvain and Celebdor. He waved at them to come and join them. A few minutes later Frodo and Sam appeared, along with Legolas and Gimli. Servants brought cushions for the hobbits to sit on, and the conversation was bright and cheery, though there were slight hiatuses every now and then as Sindarin was translated for some of the hobbits or Westron translated for Penny.

Halladan was looking a little pale and worse for wear.

"One too many last night?" Celebdor laughed.

Halladan shook his head wearily, a rueful grin on his face. "Mixing wine and mead was not a good idea. I am paying the price for it today. My head is still pounding."

"Do you not have anything for it?" Penny asked.

"Oh, it will pass," Halladan replied with a dismissive gesture and a smile.

The hobbits were desperate to know how Bilbo was faring, what he had been up to, how their journey had been, what they had made of Lothlorien and Rohan, and Sam was busy quizzing Celebdor about the gardens at Imladris.

"Oh, your cabbages came out very well, Ban. Naurdir was delighted."

"I should hope so too, amount of time I spent on them before we left you all. I am so glad old Bilba is well. I cannot wait to see him."

"He will want the tale told in full and in detail, I should not wonder." Frodo sighed, smiled and shook his head.

"He was often thinking of you," Penny said. "He might not have mentioned any of you by name, but sometimes I would catch him staring south-east, lost in his thoughts. I know he wondered how you fared, and he was so relieved and pleased when word came from Aragorn that you were all safe and well."

"And you looked after him, like we asked you to, I am sure." Merry smiled.

"As if Bilba ever needed looking after!" Lindir laughed. "Trust me, Kali, the day we left Imladris he was standing on those steps seeing us all off with a very determined look about him. I have no doubt whatsoever he will have considered himself lord of the place while we were all gone."

"He will have run them ragged by the time we return." Eleniel was laughing also.

"Yes, well, I suspect your request was a more a deceit to get Bilba to look after me in your stead rather than the other way about, was it not, Kali?" Penny smiled at the hobbit who looked a little shifty as Frodo translated.

"Not at all," he muttered, looking sheepish, and then occupied himself with piling his plate with cold meats and cheese.

"Well, I must say your Sindarin has improved immensely." Frodo beamed at Penny. "It seems a long remove from when I was testing you over the breakfast table each morning. I dare say there is the odd word or two you could teach me now."

"Oh, I doubt that. Of course, the next step is Westron, which I am utterly awful at."

"Practice, practice." Frodo wagged a finger at her. "That and vocabulary. Perhaps we should meet each morning and start testing you on Westron, since it served you so well with the Sindarin."

The appalled expression on Penny's face met with loud laughter, and only seemed to make Frodo that much more determined.

"Oh, there is no stopping him once he is set on something," Pippin piped up with a grin. "He has proved that well enough. There is no stopping a kuduk."

It was Frodo's turn to shift uncomfortably.

"And we will help," Arvain offered. "From now on, no Sindarin with the Dunedain."

"What!" Penny looked at Frodo. "You see what you have started!" He laughed.

After only a short while, Pippin had to rush back to duty and so made his apologies and disappeared.

"I thought he said there had been a change of shifts?" Mireth looked confused.

"He is doing double today because of having the day off yesterday," Sam explained through a mouthful of cold roast duck. "Would have done duty yesterday only Aragorn insisted against it. So he insisted just as much that he be allowed to make up for it today."

"He is so taken with King Elessar and being a Citadel Guard, I sometimes wonder if he will want to come home with us at all!" Merry laughed.

"Oh, do not say that, Kali," Frodo remonstrated gently. "He loves Sûza just as much as you do. We all miss it too much not to want to go home."

As the meal progressed, inevitably the subject of the clothes washing came up.

"Such a fuss about nothing!" Penny retorted.

"I quite agree." Arvain was hacking off a huge hunk of bread at Merry's request. "I am glad to have someone else wash my clothes for a change."

"And the women here do an excellent job," Halladan pointed out.

"Tell that to Rhimlath," Lindir muttered.

"Oh, Rhimlath is just being ridiculous. I washed Halbarad's leggings and undershirt for him and I had only known him a day."

"You had been wearing them yourself, though, Pen-ii," Lindir pointed out.

"And so had he, judging from the stink of them," she replied, pulling a face.

There was laughter round the table.

"You should consider yourself fortunate he even had a spare set of clothes to give you, Pen-ii." Lindir chuckled. "Halbarad was one of the old generation who believed in living very simply while rangering."

"Ah, now, Lindir, that is a little harsh," Arvain interjected. "Any ranger's life is a frugal one. Carry no more than you absolutely need, and fetch the rest from the land as you require it. Father was no different to any other Dunadan."

"There_are_ a few of you that travel with salt, soap and comb, though."

"A ranger with soap!" Halladan looked outraged.

Penny grimaced at him. "Ewww!" The others laughed.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "A fresh stream is all you need, trust me."

Penny opened her mouth to say something but decided against it.

"I think Pen-ii would disagree with you on that point." Merry smirked.

"Even an ellon needs to wash after a while," Mireth pointed out.

"Ah, well, now, hold hard," Lindir protested. "It is not exactly equivalent."

"Are you saying that elves never break into a sweat, Lindir?" Penny looked sceptical.

"I did not say that…"

"Or pick up the smell of horses or damp leather, or what if you fell in a bog or-or-or…" She searched for another example. "Or orcs! You have all told me how much they stink, and you were washing your hands pretty thoroughly after that time in the mountains…"

"Blood stains tunics if you do not deal with it well and quickly," Celebdor interrupted.

"Oh, please! You reeked of scented oil for the rest of the day – it was the stink as much as anything else you were trying to get rid of!"

"Are you saying men stink?" Arvain looked highly amused.

"No. Well… not all the time. But after a few weeks of not seeing a bar of soap they will, yes."

There was muttered agreement from every elf and hobbit there. Arvain and Halladan raised their eyebrows at them all.

"It's all the hair," Lindir said decisively. "I've been saying that for centuries."

Eleniel gasped and slapped his shoulder before collapsing into giggles.

"Anyone would stink after a few weeks without washing. Even elves, contrary to what they might say." Penny looked hard at Lindir. "Why else were you all obsessively diving in and out of rivers all the way here?"

"I am not listening!" Lindir was staring at a gilded carving of lilies in the roof beam.

"Even Legolas here was glad to get to Lothlorien and have a proper wash," Merry chipped in as Frodo translated for him.

Legolas choked into his wine and tried to look outraged.

"She sounds just like an elf," Halladan mumbled through a mouthful to his brother, waving a spoon in Penny's direction.

"She does." Arvain nodded. "You have been spending too much time in Imladris, Pen-ii, that much is very clear."

"Not at all," Mireth interrupted. "Pen-ii arrived already complaining your father stank, I seem to remember."

"Indeed?" Halladan looked at Penny, his face stern.

"Oh, well, now, I would not go that far, Mireth," Penny stammered, looking rather flustered. "We were both pretty ripe after the journey." She threw Halladan an apologetic look.

"I was jesting with you, Pen-ii." He laughed. "As you say, several weeks in the wild, even with only river washing, will leave you wanting a hot bath and a change of clothes. Happens to the best of us."

"Does it, indeed?" Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"However, I still say you do not need a comb while travelling."

There were protests from the elves. Penny joined in. Arvain agreed that a comb hardly took up any space, but Halladan was adamant that a comb in a pack was the start of a very slippery slope.

"A little salt is one thing, and even soap I could possibly allow, but when you First Born start talking about combs and bottles of scented oil and three pairs of spare hose, it becomes ridiculous."

"Ah, there my brother has a point," Arvain nodded. "I mean, a troll is not going to care what you smell like or if your hair is neat."

"That is beside the point!" Celebdor retorted.

"It is the principle of the thing," Legolas added hotly, before turning to glare at the hobbits who were sniggering into their fruit.

The banter continued in much the same vein till at last everyone made moves to leave.

The hobbits were trying to see if they could wheedle one last cheese out of the servants. Legolas was filling Celebdor in with the news he had received from home as he finished his cup of wine.

"A good part of it burnt, they say," his face was deadly serious as he spoke, "and many fell. But then we had our fair share of damage here, did we not? It was to be expected. It is fortunate not more was lost. How fared Lothlorien? I have not had a chance to speak to the Galadhrim in any detail about it all."

"Oh, not so badly, perhaps. Damage to the borders, and they lost many, but at least Eryn Lasgalen is cleared, or will be soon. Your father's realm is greater than ever."

"There is still much to do. Too long has darkness held sway over the forest."

"In time the light will reclaim it. It has already begun, I am sure."

"Indeed. We must not lose sight of that. I hope to return as soon as I may."

"And I with him," Gimli interrupted. "Our paths lie in the same direction, after all, but first I have promised him a visit to the caves in Rohan. Never seen anything more beautiful in my life…" He hesitated. "Well, except one, perhaps." He glanced up to across the Hall where Galadriel was listening politely to something Faramir was saying to her.

"It gladdens my heart to see a dwarf and elf so close," Celebdor said with a smile, his gaze flicking between Legolas and Gimli. "Too long there has been wariness between our peoples. Of course, we often have dwarves pass by Imladris, as well you know, but there has always been… well… how shall I put it…?"

"A certain mistrust?" Gimli's eyes glittered with amusement. "Yes, I would agree with you there, Master Elf. But in Legolas here, I find all that is noble and true in your race, and I was proud to bear my axe beside his bow. You make noble warriors, you elves, far hardier than I had ever realised." Celebdor inclined his head a little in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Lothlorien was a wonder to me. Once I could see the kindness, the beauty, the inherent goodness in that place, then I knew that no Elf such as her or who held her dear could bear malice towards me and my kin. Let bygones be bygones, I said. Which is not to say Lord Elrond and the elves of Imladris were not most courteous to us also," he added hurriedly.

"The Lady was most gracious to him," Legolas said. "A gift was given to him that no Elf could dream of receiving. He was shown a great favour."

"Indeed?" Celebdor was intrigued.

"Now, you keep my private business private, Elf," Gimli muttered at Legolas. "What was shared between her and me remains my affair, and I like to keep it that way."

Legolas chuckled.

"It is no laughing matter!"

"I know, I know." Legolas tried to straighten his face. "I understand, my friend."

"Good." Gimli glanced at him slightly suspiciously and then stomped off to see if he could track down Gandalf.

"It is no secret given the Lady herself has already made reference of it since she arrived here and where others might overhear," Legolas murmured. "It is his keepsake and he is a little sensitive about it, that is all. Estel knows, of course. Suffice it to say that if word ever travels West and reaches the ears of some who reside in Mandos' Halls, Feanor will not be pleased."

Celebdor raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Oh?" He blinked at him.

Penny, who understood this last part, sniggered quietly to herself. She looked up to see Legolas had an eyebrow raised in her direction and a soft smile on his face. She grinned back at him and he laughed.

Lunch was long finished by the time that, one by one, those that remained finally got up to leave. Halladan winced slightly each time a wooden bench squeaked against the marble.

"Still have that headache? I have some herbs for use against pain in my pack. Mireth gave me to them before we left in case I needed them." Penny mentioned their name and Halladan nodded, recognising the powdered tree bark she was talking about. "I can fetch you some if you would like."

"No, no, do not trouble yourself…"

"Oh, it is no trouble. I have plenty to spare."

He hesitated for a second and then, as Lindir and Arvain, who both standing right beside him, roared with laughter over some quip Eleniel had just made at Celebdor's expense, he winced and nodded.

"Yes, perhaps I will. Thank you. That is most generous."

As they made their way out into the sunshine and started across the courtyard, Penny glanced across towards the battlement that stood at the top of the pinnacle of rock.

"Halladan, would you mind? Could I just go and see the view?"

"But of course." He smiled, and they made their way slowly towards it.

It was the first time Penny had really had time to stop and take stock of her surroundings, and she could not resist this opportunity. Before they reached the far end and the embrasure with the stone seat set below it, she stopped, turning to look back towards the Tower of Ecthelion and the tall, snow-capped peak behind it, the snow bright in the summer sun.

"Beautiful," she breathed.

"Is it not? It was quite something to see it at last. I had heard of it, even seen pictures in Imladris, but pictures never truly do such a thing justice."

Of course, this place held some kind of historical significance for him as a Dunadan, Penny reminded herself.

The view from the opening in the wall was every bit as astonishing as Penny might have hoped. There before her was all the Pelennor, with even the Ramas Ecchor visible at points as a distant, grey line (utterly belying the height or width of it up close). Osgiliath was a faint blur only really visible thanks to the glint of the river that was blocked out at that point. The mountains of Mordor loomed large and clear, cutting straight across her view and filling the horizon. Between them and the river were woods and thicket-covered hills. She tried to see if she could spot Minas Morgul from this distance, but could make nothing out in the gloom of the mountain peaks, though it would not have surprised her if an elf standing next to her might have been able to make it out.

She glanced northeast to where the mountains came to an abrupt end and realised, with a sudden jolt, that she was looking at the place where Hirvell died, where many had died, indeed, judging from some of the snatches of overheard conversation last night.

That thought immediately brought her eye nearer to home and to the Pelennor once more.

From her vantage point the lines of the trenches the enemy had dug were clearly visible in several places, and once you had got your eye in you could make out the concentric lines of them pretty clearly by connecting up the patches of bare earth, the raised lines of grass-covered earthworks, or even where a swath of trees had been felled to make way for them on occasion. The ruins of farmsteads were visible, too. It was clear the number of farms on the Pelennor had not been numerous, but that few within Penny's range of sight had escaped some sort of damage. When she had ridden through it, she had been able to see only what was visible from the road. Now she was left in no doubt as to how extensive the damage had been over the whole Pelennor, getting progressively worse towards the city. There was a whole patch of blackened tree trunks less than half a mile south just for a start.

She could not help but wonder where, in all of this lot, Halbarad had met his end.

And yet, in amongst the ruin, carts and wains made their inexorable course down tracks or along the main roads leading to any one of the three gates in the wall. Lone riders could be spotted, no doubt carrying messages to sentries; even walking travellers, one switching a mule loaded with baggage, were coming and going. There were cattle in a few fields, builders at work restoring the roof timbers of a nearby barn, and smoke from the odd chimney still intact.

Life continued, in spite of the loss.

It was faintly surreal.

"Pen-ii?" Halladan interrupted her thoughts.

She glanced at him.

"While I have this opportunity to talk to you alone, I think I should tell you… That is, well, my father… he told me a lot about you."

"Yes, I realised."

"No, I mean… I mean that he told us all about you, about who you were, where you came from: your entire story. He perhaps spoke to me more than he did to Hirvell and Arvain, but we all knew the basic facts of what went on in the questioning of you in Imladris."

"Oh." Penny blinked at him. "Oh. I see." She smiled weakly and looked away.

"I just thought I should tell you that Arvain and I know, and I want you to feel you can talk openly to us, just as you would have been able to with Father."

Penny glanced at him once more and saw him smiling kindly at her. She returned his smile.

"Thank you, Halladan. I am glad he told you. It does… make things easier, though I do not doubt you find it strange."

"I do. I did. However, my father believed it to be the truth, and that was enough for me to believe it and for Hirvell and Arvain to believe it also. That Elladan and Elrohir knew and did not doubt your story helped, of course, when he first told us, let alone to then learn that Aragorn and Mithrandir knew as well."

"Lindir knows also. I told him in Lothlorien. He had become too close a friend and had guessed something was not all the others were saying it was."

Halladan nodded. "Yes, Legolas told me."

Good grief! Clearly her ears had been burning! Penny wondered if there had been get-togethers amongst them all here in the south speculating what she might or might not have known about in advance. Given what Halbarad had heard her say about Moria, they would have probably realised how detailed her knowledge was. What must they have thought?

She felt a knot of anxiety form in her stomach.

Apparently, her concern showed in her face because Halladan tried to reassure her.

"It must have been hard for you, to have such knowledge."

She nodded, saying nothing and staring out at the Pelennor, at the damage that seemed all too visible suddenly, with memories of the few men she had seen even at yesterday's festivities with eye patches, or on crutches, or with one sleeve of a tunic pinned to their sides running through her head. She thought of the man standing beside her, one hand holding the top of his stick, and considered the obvious difficulty he was having dealing with the loss of his brother and father.

She felt her throat tighten.

Halladan was gauging her reaction to all this. He had wanted to talk to her that first night they had arrived, but she had left so early from the meal, and yesterday had been out of the question. She had that same air about her she had had at that first supper all of a sudden. It was clear, just as Mithrandir had agreed when Halladan had spoken to him, that she had a lot of unresolved anxiety if not distress. Nor did Halladan blame her in the least. He just hoped his instincts were correct and she was already warming to him as a friend so that he could be a help to her if she needed it, and could provide the support and protection he had promised his father he would give her in his stead.

"Shall we sit?" he said gently, indicating the stone bench below the embrasure's sill.

Penny nodded. They sat side by side for a little while, saying nothing. Penny did not feel she needed to say anything, rather she sensed that he did not require her to explain or talk in the least if she did not wish to. She was grateful to him for not making her feel awkward or pressured.

"Raz looked at this view the first day he arrived here. He sat on this same seat with Beregond."

Halladan looked at her, astonished. "You know of Beregond?" Beregond was no longer resident in the city, so there was no way she could know who he was or anything of him.

"Of course. His love for Faramir, his spilling of blood to gain access to the Domes of the Dead, as well as the justice and kindness with which Aragorn dealt with him for his transgression..." She looked at him. "You said you knew, Halladan. There is no need to look quite so surprised." She made a half-hearted attempt at a smile.

"Yes, I know, but to hear it…"

"I realise." She fell back into silence once more for a moment. "Raz became very good friends with his son, Bergil, did he not?"

Halladan chuckled, shaking his head, as if utterly unable to find an appropriate response.

She was staring at the Pelennor once more. "I just wonder if… I mean, I know there was no other way, but…" Why was she telling him this? She barely knew the man. "When I see the damage done…" Her throat was tight again, her hand gripping the stone sill so tightly Halladan could see her knuckles whiten. She slowly blew outwards, looking to the sky in a bid to keep herself under control.

"Mithrandir's advice is never to be gainsaid, Pen-ii. I know my father trusted his decision, and understood the reasoning for it completely. He agreed with it." He paused, waiting for her to look at him. "I know you know that. He understood and would never have asked you to tell him anything."

"It got pretty hard with the Balrog. I regretted saying anything. I should not have told them, because it worried them terribly and there was nothing they could do."

"Perhaps. But it is past, no? What is done is done. Life moves on. See?" He gestured at the Pelennor. "They are rebuilding and living their lives. That is as it should be."

"And you, Halladan?"

"Me?"

He looked at her, feining ignorance of what she might be referring to, but saw in her look a depth of understanding of his predicament that made him feel uncomfortable.

He said nothing and looked away.

"May I ask..? About your leg…? Is it very badly damaged?"

He glanced down at his thigh. "Yes. But it will heal with time, or should do. You can never be wholly sure, of course. The last of the bandages came off a few weeks ago, but I still get pain and stiffness. Likely will for the rest of my life. I was fortunate, perhaps, that it was not a cutting weapon that caught me or else I could now be completely lame, though there were spikes on that club that did a fair bit of damage. Had it been a sword or axe I might well have lost my leg completely, if not with the initial blow then at the hands of the healers soon afterwards."

Penny looked at him with horror.

"Yes, I am fortunate, Pen-ii. I have much to be thankful for." He sounded rather like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was her. "Many suffered far worse."

She nodded. "I am sorry."

"What for?"

"Your leg."

"Oh, there's no ne-"

"For everything."

They looked at each other for a moment till Penny dropped her gaze to stare at her hands in her lap while Halladan found himself focusing on the high snows on Mindolluin.

"Come." Halladan pushed himself up with his stick and held out his hand. "What about those herbs you promised me? We cannot sit here all day and this bright sunlight is not helping my head in the least."

"True." She took his hand, returning his smile, and stood up. "Forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive."

They made their way over to her lodgings, Halladan waiting at the door while Penny went up to fetch the powdered bark and return. As they wandered over towards the buttery so Halladan could get some honey and freshly boiled water to use to make it up into a drink, Pippin came trotting up to them.

"Ah, there you are, Pen-ii. Halladan, would you mind translating? I have been sent to find you, Pen-ii. The King is asking for you."

She knew what this was about. The tight ball of anxiety hit the pit of her stomach once more.

"Oh, thank you, Raz." She could manage that much in Westron.

She made to follow him as he turned to head off, then stopped and looked back at Halladan. "Would you come with me? I know they will wish to talk about… I would like you to be there."

"No, no. Not without being expressly invited. It would not be appropriate." He smiled. "There is no ill-feeling towards you, Pen-ii. I know you need to hear that from them, but do not be apprehensive."

She did not look convinced.

"I need to go and take this." He shook the tub of powder at her. "I will come and wait for you so that I may return it to you."

There was no need for him to wait for her to give it back straight away. He could return it at any time. She knew it and he knew it. She had said as much when she had given it to him. Still she appreciated him saying he would be there waiting for her once she was done, and knowing that he would be outside afterwards helped to calm her nerves a little. She suspected (rightly) that he had offered to do it for precisely that reason. She thanked him.

As she turned to follow Pippin to the Hall and royal chambers on the other side of the Tower of Ecthelion, Halladan watched her for a few moments. He wondered if he should have mentioned his father's dying words just now. He had had plenty of opportunity.

And yet… something had held him back. 'Not yet,' he had told himself.

Perhaps he did not want to relive that moment, worried what it might bring back or how he might react. He barely knew her, and could ill afford to… Or was it that he felt it was too much for her to take right now, given how she was clearly reeling from being here at last, and still in need of reassurance from those who had guided her before the War? Perhaps it was a little of both? No matter. It could wait, would have to wait. They had time enough, time for him to get to know her better and assess how best to tackle the moment when it came.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Please be advised that on consultation with The Sindarin Language Bods of The Interweb, I have discovered that 'ellyth' as the plural of 'elleth' is incorrect. _Mea culpa_, and my apologies. In the plural 'e' lenates to 'i', so it's 'ellith' not 'ellyth'. 'Ellyn' as the plural of 'ellon' is correct, though. As and when I can find the time, I will go back and change all the uses of 'ellyth' to 'ellith', but since this fic is now posted at four different places, it will be a lot of work, so I am sure you will forgive me if this doesn't happen right away. Just to let you know, though. My sincere thanks to everyone who helped me get to the bottom of this, and in particular dreamingfifi of the Real Elvish website.

I would also like to thank surgicalsteel for all her detailed advice and help on battle injuries, wounds, and their various treatments, prognoses, complications and time scales, and in particular on helping decide on the nature of Halladan's injury and how it would affect him in terms of movement and healing time, etc.

For those as might not know: it is said that Feanor, arguably the greatest elf and craftsman in history (and he who made the Silmarils and started the first kin-slaying and the whole reason for the Noldor coming back from Valinor in the first place) once asked Galadriel for some strands of her hair. Her hair was said to be astonishingly beautiful and may even have inspired Feanor to make the Silmarils in the first place. Galadriel refused him, even though he was close kin to her. Thus, Gimli was granted a gift that was truly astonishing for all sorts of reasons.


	26. Easier Said Than Done

My apologies for the delay in getting this chapter done and posted. A difficult chapter coincided with exhausting real life stuff, I am afraid. Just to warn you, it is possible that future chapters may arrive slower than of late. I will endeavour to post when I can, but if there is a similarly lengthy delay at any time, then at least I have forewarned you. Sorry!

* * *

**Chapter 26** - _"Easier Said Than Done"_

Penny felt very strange following Pippin. He was taking her on exactly the same route that she knew Gandalf had taken him that very first morning he had arrived in Minas Tirith. It was a distinctly odd experience to say the least.

The sentries were on the door to the Hall, just as Penny knew they would be. As she followed Pippin down the stone flagged corridor she noted that it was even more sonorous and grand that she had ever imagined it in her mind's eye. However, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Pippin did not stop at the metal door that she knew opened into the huge, pillared room with the throne at the far end, but instead continued on past it. As much as she would have loved to have seen it, she had no desire to conduct whatever conversation was about to take place in such surroundings.

A couple of yards on from the door to the throne room, Pippin took a sharp left and then started up a stone staircase, the steps of which were worn smooth and clearly aged. At the top, Pippin turned left once more and led the way down a corridor that ran directly above the one they had just left. At the far end, he stopped in front of a heavy wooden door. He knocked, throwing a grin up at Penny over his shoulder as he did so.

Gandalf came to the door.

"Ah, so you found her, then, Raz? Very good. Thank you."

Pippin beamed, nodded at them both and stood back to let Penny past him.

"Thank you, Raz," Penny murmured in Westron.

Gandalf also stood to one side, holding the door open for her and then shutting it behind her, leaving Pippin out in the corridor.

Penny found herself in an antechamber of a similar size to Elrond's study in Imladris. Two tall windows opposite the door opened out onto a balcony which looked out over the south of the city. Aragorn was out on it, chatting quietly with Elrond as she came in. Glancing up at her arrival, they smiled and made their way through into the room.

A great fireplace was on the right hand side, the surround made of white marble. The floor, too, was marble, but of various colours to make geometric patterns. The bottom halves of the walls were dressed with wood panelling, intricately inlaid in a sort of a 'trompe l'oeil' design making it seem as if there were shelves and books, cupboards and bowls of fruit all at knee or hip height. The upper halves of the walls were hung with tapestries, mostly mirroring the view outside. The ceiling was made up of panels formed by 'beams' of carved stone. Each one had been plastered and then painted to make the ceiling seem like a sky. It started with a rosy dawn at the left, moving through a clear blue with the occasional cloud and ending in a dark night sky, studded with stars above the fireplace.

Penny stared in amazement.

It was a tad overblown for her tastes, admittedly, but it was still very impressive.

"Ah, Lady Pen-ii." Aragorn smiled as he stepped into the room, a gold goblet in his hand.

Penny did her poor attempt at a half-curtsey-come-bow.

"Do not feel you have to stand on ceremony here, Pen-ii. No Gondorian nobles taking note of protocols at this moment. You are quite safe." He grinned. "Please, sit." He indicated a chair near the fireplace and then took a chair opposite hers.

"Pen-ii." Elrond nodded at her in greeting, smiling, and came over to sit down next to her.

Just the three of them? Penny had expected more, though she was grateful if this was going to be it.

"I did ask Arwen if she would like to be here, but she felt it best we kept numbers to a minimum," Aragorn was saying. "Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel also declined. However, I did insist Legolas should be here, given that your knowledge pertained as much to him as it did to Mithrandir or myself."

He smiled gently as he spoke, making it clear he was trying to make her feel at ease. She appreciated it, even if the knot in her stomach was getting tighter with every passing second.

"Would you care for a drink, Pen-ii?"

"Oh, no, thank you, Gandalf."

He raised an amused eyebrow in her direction. "It is fruit pulp and water. Do you really think we would be indulging in alcohol so early in the day?"

Penny flushed a little as the three chuckled slightly. She had seen the goblets in Aragorn's and Elrond's hands and had just assumed it was wine.

"Then, yes, thank you, I will. That would be most kind."

Her goblet was also made of gold (and so heavier than she had expected), and the drink itself seemed to be apricot or peach pulp mixed with water. It was very refreshing. Penny said as much, Elrond agreed and Aragorn explained that there were some fruit orchards still left standing on the Pelennor, but really the best fruit came from Lebennin.

The gentle small talk filled a few seconds.

In the meantime, there came a knock at the door and Gandalf once more went to answer it, clearly enjoying his role as impromptu 'general factotum.'

It was Legolas, as expected. He was soon armed with a fruit juice as well and then found himself a chair and placed it next to Aragorn's, opposite Penny. Gandalf seated himself between her and Aragorn. Then after a minute or two the idle pleasantries and chit chat died away and for a moment there was silence.

Now she was here Penny had no idea what to say. Everything and nothing, it seemed. It suddenly felt so ridiculous, to have all this fuss made over something which was in the past, which no one could change. Not only that, but whatever she might have gone through was as nothing compared to anything the four individuals seated round her had endured and witnessed in their lives.

She was painfully aware of that, and it only added to her sense of foolishness.

"So," Gandalf said at last. "I realise you wished to talk to me, to us, indeed. I have been looking forward to seeing you once more, and was most pleased Lord Elrond chose to bring you with him. I had a feeling he might."

He gave one of his inscrutable glances in Elrond's direction as he said this, and Elrond gave the merest hint of an eyebrow by way of reply.

"I was worried you might not remember me," Penny said quietly, with enough of a hint of laughter in her voice to make it clear she considered herself ridiculous for having considered the idea.

"Oh?"

"Well, as the White you appeared more… distant, more removed from this world, from your former self…"

She noticed Legolas and Aragorn glancing at each other, vague smirks on their faces.

"Not so much now, but at first, yes, that was true," Gandalf said. "I would not have forgotten a story as extraordinary as yours, though, Pen-ii. I might have thought I had dreamt it or foreseen it at first, perhaps, but never forgotten it."

"Has it really been so hard with us that you yearned for Gandalf's insight so much, Pen-ii?" Elrond's tone was not admonishing, merely curious. He had a faint smile on his face.

"Oh, no! No, no, not at all! You have all been so very kind to me, and especially yourself, and Arwen, and Erestor and Glorfindel, those who knew…"

"Not Lindir? I had understood you two had become very good friends."

"Well, I only told him in Lothlorien, Gandalf, indeed that was why I told him, because he was such a good friend. In truth I have not spoken much of it at all since we travelled. It has not really been possible with so many with us who knew nothing of my story… I have not spoken of it terribly much since the War ended, in fact."

"Even before then, Pen-ii," Elrond spoke quietly. "You spoke to me, and could talk freely with the few who knew if you so wished, but you were hampered both by your lack of Sindarin as well as… well, I think you did not wish to burden some of us, perhaps."

He looked in Aragorn's direction as he said this, and Aragorn nodded, understanding his meaning.

"Arwen told me she sensed as much from you, Pen-ii,"Aragorn said, "that you held back a lot of what you knew and felt in her presence, no doubt because you did not wish to worry her. Is that the case?"

Penny nodded, suddenly very interested in the contents of her goblet.

"I think the time before I was able to speak freely to Lord Elrond was the worst."

For a moment she stopped speaking as the memory of that time flooded back: trapped in spiral of despair, knowing the inevitable result of what would happen, torn between wanting to do anything in her power to stop it and yet knowing the futility of such an action, let alone how dangerous it might be.

And Halbarad… always Halbarad…

Penny roused herself and struggled to remember what they had been talking about.

"She could sense, I am sure, that I was upset, but I did not want her to think it related to you. I did not want her to fear for you, to worry unnecessarily."

She shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to explain in any detail how incredibly hard she had found it to try and mask her emotions all the time. Little did she know she had not been terribly good at it, and it had all been seen and guessed at the time. Thus all four sitting there knew well enough about it without her saying anything.

"After I had spoken to Lord Elrond, well, we did speak of it very briefly once. She told me she knew all would be well. She had foreseen herself as your wife, and how could that come to pass if any harm were to come to you?" She was aware of some movement and looked up to see Aragorn grinning and the other three exchanging surprised looks. "She never told you?"

"She told me, yes," Elrond said. "A long time before, but I am surprised she told you. Not that it is of any consequence, indeed, but it shows how far she went to try and put you at ease in all this."

"I am aware of that, Lord Elrond." She felt somehow that the admission warranted the formal use of his title. "Queen Arwen showed me great kindness and understanding, sometimes without my even being aware of it till much later. Indeed, that one time we spoke of it, when I also sought to reassure her of the truth of her foresight, was never repeated. Instead she did her best to keep me busy and occupied with other matters. I know she spoke to Mireth and Eleniel also, since if it was not her keeping me busy then it was one of the others, or all three."

The males smiled, aware this was just the sort of generosity of spirit and kind consideration for which the three ellith were well known.

"However, even then I felt… I knew the horrors still awaiting Maura and the rest of you, the battles, the death… It was still hard to bear."

Her voice had become very quiet and she continued slowly, as if picking her words carefully while trying to exactly remember her pain and distress at the time.

"I cannot even begin to pretend I can know what each event was like for those involved."

She deliberately kept her gaze lowered, not even looking at Aragorn, Legolas or Gandalf as she spoke. She felt she was somehow presumptuous to even speak of their experiences, what they had gone through.

"Not only have I never experienced such things, such violence and terror, but… it involves things I had never seen or really understood or even known to be true before I came here." She paused. "Even so, the mind plays tricks. It fills in the gaps, often with things that are far from the reality, perhaps."

She was still not looking at them.

"I felt so guilty, so… so helpless…"

She stopped, her throat suddenly tight.

"You had no reason to feel guilt, Pen-ii." Aragorn spoke quietly, looking at her intently.

She did not answer him, just stared into the cup of juice in her lap.

"I am glad you took my advice, Pen-ii, and spoke in detail to Lord Elrond about what you knew." If she had looked up at him she would have seen Gandalf smiling kindly at her. "It would not have been possible for you to carry such a burden by yourself."

"I know." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

She did know. She had known at the time. It had been almost intolerable. Were it not for the support and affection shown to her back then, she was firmly convinced she would have gone completely round the twist. She was very tempted to confess as much to them - that it had nearly broken her - but restrained herself.

She little realised that they could clearly see and sense that she was fighting to hold it all back, willing herself not to collapse into a splurge of self-pity, bile and ranting. It was clearly all still very raw for her.

Not for the first time, glances were exchanged between the four males.

"She took some persuading, Mithrandir. Did you not, Pen-ii?" Elrond said gently.

"It was only because of the decision about the Dunedain. I _had_ to wait. Had it not been for that I might have spoken to you before. Once that was done, then…"

"That is not strictly true, Pen-ii. Even then you did not speak to me fully. It was when you came to me about Halbarad that finally you told me everything, if you remember."

Penny closed her eyes for a moment. Then she raised her head and looked at Aragorn, who was watching her with a steady, kindly gaze, one elbow resting lightly on an arm-rest.

"I am sorry."

"What for, Pen-ii?" His voice was soft, without the slightest hint of anger or reproach.

"For Halbarad."

She felt her lip wobble, but not from grief so much as at the thought of what his fall must have meant to Aragorn. What was it Halladan had said? That they had been like brothers?

"For not telling you. For not telling you about any of it." Her gaze flicked between the three of them - Gandalf, Legolas and Aragorn – almost pleading. "I wanted to, but I knew that… I am so very sorry. I know it was selfish of me but since last we met I have feared your anger, feared that at every step you wondered if I had known, and what might have been if you had known in advance. I have worried about it all this time. And then I felt guilty for even thinking it, since I knew it was probably a dishonourable thing to think of you all after the assurances you had given me, and yet I would not have blamed you at all if such thoughts came to mind. How could they not when faced with… what you faced?"

Aragorn sighed and leaned forward, holding the goblet with both hands. He was silent for a moment as if gathering his thoughts, then looked back towards her.

"Pen-ii, I know Legolas has said this to you, and I can only repeat it. The promise that we made to you in Imladris was made with the full awareness that your foreknowledge was detailed, and detailed enough for you probably even to know the names of some that would fall, and they may include those we knew or would come to know and love. We told you then we would forgive you and not lay blame upon you no matter what came to pass. It was made in the hope that your silence was based on the knowledge that Sauron would fall. So it proved, and he did indeed fall. I stand by my promise. As does Legolas, I know. And not one who knows your position disagrees."

"But, Aragorn, I _knew_."

No one commented on her addressing him quite so familiarly, especially given he was now King, and no longer a 'mere Ranger.' Now was not the time, nor the situation. She needed to feel like she could talk freely – they had all agreed on that before they had called for her and it was why they had deliberately kept this meeting both as small and informal as possible.

"I knew about it _all_. About Moria, about Boromir, about everything Maura would face, the attack on Rohan…"

"Do you doubt my word?" He was not angry. "I know all of this, Pen-ii. Halbarad told us something of what little you had told him. Lord Elrond has since confirmed just how detailed your knowledge was. I mean what I say, Pen-ii. There is nothing to forgive. In other circumstances, perhaps, but given what was at stake you had no option. Nothing was worth risking what you knew the outcome to be." He gave her a meaningful look. "Nothing."

"Besides which, Pen-ii, would we really have believed you if you had told us what awaited us in Moria?"

Legolas had a point. She smiled thinly.

"No. No, probably not. I doubt you would have believed much of it, in truth." She glanced at Elrond as she said this.

"I never said I did not believe you," Elrond replied. "Indeed, I could sense you were in absolute earnest the entire time you spoke to me. I will admit I did wonder if there were parts that were lost in translation or by your limited means of communication, but any doubts I had in that regard were soon lifted when Estel sent word after the War, let alone when Elladan and Elrohir told me more once I saw them in Rohan."

Penny nodded, almost to herself if anything, and then looked at Aragorn once more.

"Thank you. It means much to know that I have not upset or angered you by my actions."

"How could I be angered when I knew you were acting on Mithrandir's counsel? How could any of us?"

Which was true, and Penny immediately felt, again, that she was being foolish with all of this and perhaps even a little rude, and yet… Well, she was only human. She was only flawed, human Penny with all her foibles and wealth of ridiculous, mortal emotions, after all.

She glanced towards Gandalf, who was being particularly quiet. He just looked back at her with his soft, grey eyes. She realised she knew what he was thinking about. She did not know how she knew, only that she was certain she did.

What had that been like for him, to feel death, to feel mortality for an instant? There had been moments of that battle with the balrog he had not been able to speak of even to Aragorn, which had been too horrific or terrible for him to wish to dwell on.

"Forgive me," she said quietly. "Please, Gandalf. I would have told you."

He just held out his hand to her, a soft smile on his face, and she took it, with the very strong idea in her head that he was about to wink at her, though he did not. In that gesture, something gave way, some barrier that she had held up all these months. She was fighting back the tears all of a sudden. She had forgotten how kind and gentle he had been…

No, not forgotten. She had never forgotten, though perhaps she had not dwelt on it, since the gap it had left had been huge.

She had missed him.

"I would have told you everything. You know that. I offered to more than once. But I knew what the end would be, and I think you knew too. Or guessed. Or perhaps just hoped, I do not know, but I _knew_ with certainty he would fall, that every piece, that every link, every step would lead to it, and that one thing out of place might easily put that at risk." The strength of feeling in her tone took them all a little by surprise, though they did not show it. "There was that one time… I felt… You let me feel…"

She could not find a way to describe it, but it was clear Gandalf knew exactly what she was talking about because he nodded slowly.

"Yes, I let you feel something of the horror of him, the fear, the darkness that he was capable of generating in people's hearts at the mere mention of his name. Perhaps you did not need to be shown that, but I felt it would do no harm to help make you understand why I was asking such a thing of you."

"I already understood. I had already understood but, yes, that did help to strengthen my determination."

She paused, her hand still in his, the others saying nothing, only watching, letting her say whatever she felt needed to be said. There was a tremor in her voice as she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It was just so very difficult, Gandalf."

She briskly brushed away a tear on her cheek, almost in anger at having lost control.

Gandalf gave her hand a gentle squeeze and the others looked sympathetic. They had all heard Elrond, Erestor and Arwen speak at some length of how she had struggled to cope with her burden. Indeed, Halbarad had spoken long into the night about it when he had first journeyed south, with his sons as an audience as well as Aragorn and Legolas, of how concerned he had been about her ability to cope.

"Perhaps it is hard for you to understand but for me, for many like me, this story, the people in it," she looked round at them for a moment, "all of you… it is like we know you. Of course we do not, but to those who know this story, we love it so, we feel for you, we… _care_. … I am sorry I am probably not making much sense."

"Even those who never knew the ancient times can weep over the fall of Fingolfin or the sack of Doriath or the destruction of Gondolin," Legolas replied. "I understand you completely."

"Thank you, yes, that is it exactly. I felt as if I was walking every step with you, especially at first."

"Why did you not speak to me sooner, Pen-ii? I could have saved you some distress."

Gandalf let her hand slip from his as she turned in her seat slightly to face Elrond.

"Even when I told you about Moria, about the balrog, your and Halbarad's first reaction was to think to send Glorfindel and others after them, was it not?"

Elrond said nothing.

"I bitterly regretted telling you that. It served no purpose other than to make you all worry terribly. It was stupid of me to tell you. Stupid and unforgivable to make you so alarmed when there was nothing you could do." She did not notice the glances between the others and raised eyebrows at this harsh opinion of herself. "And then when the news came from Lothlorien…"

She fell silent. She had never forgotten Elrond's fury with her on hearing of Gandalf's fall.

"I still say you should have told me. I would have still sent the Dunedain south no matter when the news had come to me. Indeed the decision was never wholly mine. It was as much Halbarad's and my sons. The advice of Dunedain, Glorfindel and many others was taken into consideration."

"But I had to know that it was a decision made without my interference. If I had told you 'this will happen', and then you had sent them south because of what I had told you, not because of whatever was decided amongst yourselves entirely on the basis of the events themselves and Aragorn's request, well, then I would never have known if you would have sent them anyway. I…" She swallowed hard. "It… It would have been _me_ who sent Halbarad to his death, Elrond, _I_ would have been responsible. Not only for him, but Hirvell also. I would have killed them both and maimed Halladan, and who knows who else? Do you not think I bear enough responsibility in all this without that on my shoulders as well?"

"Ah, so you would have me bear it on mine?"

Penny stared at him, blinking for a moment as the implication of Elrond's question sunk in. He was straight faced and unsmiling, but not angry so much as trying to show her the fallacy of her argument, as well as the unintentional charge and insult she had laid against him.

"I-I am sorry. Forgive me, I should not… I did not mean that you… My point was that given I knew what would happen I was responsible, I a_m_ responsible for not trying to prevent any of it. That was my decision." Gandalf opened his mouth to say something. "Yes, it _was_, Gandalf. I did not have to listen to your advice. I could have sat there and told you everything, even if you had stuffed your fingers in your ears. I had a choice: let things unfold as I knew they would with all that that implied, or else attempt to prevent at least some of the death and destruction but in so doing risk the fall of all Arda into despair and darkness. I cannot say I do not regret my choice, but at the same time I… I would make the same choice again." This last phrase was said desperately slowly as if she was wringing it out of herself. "I had a choice between death and destruction or even more death or destruction," she added, a bitter tone to her voice. "I would not wish such a choice on anyone."

"Let me make one thing very clear, Pen-ii," Aragorn's tone, while gentle, was also deadly serious and firm. "You do not bear responsibility for a single death in any of this. Nor, might I add, does Lord Elrond, though I realise that was not at all what you meant to suggest just now. None of this is your doing. It is only Sauron who wrought this evil. Sauron and Saruman between them are entirely responsible for all that we have faced since we left Imladris."

"I could have warned you. I chose not to."

"It was the right decision."

"Was it?"

"Absolutely. Sauron fell and that is something we barely hoped to achieve."

"And if there was another way?"

"Ah, but was there?"

Gandalf's voice broke through as a quiet rumble. It was less a question, more a hint that he understood the situation as well as Penny did if not better. She could see him looking at her intently through his eyebrows.

"No," she said at last, her voice quiet. "Or at least not that I could think of, and I will admit I tried to think of a way over and over again till I was nearly driven mad by it."

"You say you had a choice between a lesser and greater evil," Gandalf continued, "and that is indeed true, of course, yet consider the commander of an army, or indeed any leader in a battle situation. He has various options, all of them dangerous, and any deaths that may result will rest on the decisions he made. Do you not think he carries guilt with him at such moments?"

Elrond had commanded in battle, as had Aragorn, and no doubt Legolas in his time in Mirkwood. Gandalf had not only made decisions regarding the Fellowship, and on the battlefield, but had been such a prime mover in all the affairs of the War and leading up to it that he had no doubt made decisions of a similar nature to Penny's if not greater on more than one occasion.

Indeed, as this thought struck Penny she remembered how, when Pippin had come to tell Gandalf of Denethor's madness and how Faramir must be saved, Gandalf had looked out onto the battlefield, knowing by saving Faramir he would not face the Witchking, but rather Theoden would do so, and would die.

Or how about Gandalf's 'meddling' that had roused Smaug, and yet if he had not and Smaug had still been alive, the North would have burned (and Imladris with it) once the War had begun. Laketown had lost heavily for that act, though.

There were countless such examples, and all were examples when those responsible could, with every legitimate reason, feel themselves burdened by the weight of their decision and its consequences. Penny had not led people to battle, had not, in some senses, truly held the fate of people's lives in her hands – it was all indirect, and who was to say that even if she had been utterly frank with what lay ahead of them that anything would have been changed or anyone saved who otherwise now lay in the cold earth. Her sense of guilt and responsibility was as nothing compared to what these four listening to her whinging on might feel let alone anyone else they fought beside or held power and sway over decisions.

Penny nodded slowly. "I had not thought of it in those terms. Forgive me. I must seem very foolish to you."

"Not at all, Pen-ii. I do not say this to belittle your feelings, only to point out that we understand them completely, and do not blame you for them. When we stood before the Black Gates we had no way of knowing what our fate would be, indeed all seemed lost. We were hopelessly outnumbered. When I saw the evidence of Maura's capture, I will admit that even I wavered for an instant, wondering if I had sent that gentle kuduk to a fate worse than death, let alone brought all those standing round me to the slaughter. Only for the merest instant, mind," he wagged a finger, his eyes twinkling, "since if the Ring had been found we would have known it."

"The Ring could have been stolen or lost on the way, and you would not have known."

"That is true. You have a gift for pointing out the blackest of scenarios it would appear." He smiled. "But even when I heard the terrible route Maura had taken, I could not despair. Something told me, deep within, that there was always hope no matter how dark things seemed. I will admit that your eager willingness to stay silent helped. Why would you be so willing when it would obviously be so difficult for you if the outcome were not a good one? Yes, you were responsible for your decision (though I would suggest that those who urged and insisted you stand by it were just as responsible, and that includes all four of us here in this room) but you are not responsible for the consequences of Sauron's actions. You had little choice, in fact. As you say: it was either to allow much or risk everything. I know you understand that."

She nodded. "As we say in my tongue: 'caught between a rock and a hard place.'" She faltered. "To see it, though… To be here and see the result of it all…" A tear trickled down her cheek. "I had no idea… I mean I knew, but never really understood…" More tears fell. And for a moment she wept silently, struggling to maintain control of herself and failing completely.

"War is a dreadful thing, Pen-ii," Aragorn said quietly, his face now as grim and serious as the others'. "But you must realise Gondorians are a strong people. They had long suffered and battled against this evil, and now that it is lifted they will not regret the losses, only celebrate their victory and the end to such long, dark times borne by countless generations. They will mourn and grieve, indeed they have done and still do, but they are grateful beyond measure that it was not worse. They understand only too well how close they came to defeat, how near a thing it was. Maura and Ban will be long remembered and honoured by us all."

And Penny thought of the near indifference with which Maura's deeds would be regarded in The Shire once he returned.

"'A fool's hope,'" Penny murmured. Gandalf raised an astonished eyebrow at her, but she did not notice. "In my time, those that know this story well, sometimes ask 'what if' of many parts of it. It is true we can bend the story to fit so that Sauron still falls, but if we are honest, if we are really honest, then we know the slightest thing will have such a great effect that it puts it entirely at risk. It was a very slim chance indeed that Maura would succeed, and it was only by the series of events as they occurred that it was possible. Perhaps by other events it may also have worked, but very likely not. Even without Gandalf's insistence I knew I could not risk telling you."

"Oh?" Aragorn could not help himself. He was intrigued.

"What if others had been in the Fellowship, such as a balrog-slayer like Glorfindel? What if other members of the Fellowship had gone to Mordor with Maura and Ban? What if Boromir had lived or Raz and Kali not been taken by the orcs, or Saruman not attacked Rohan…"

"Why is it said Glorfindel was not chosen?" Elrond interrupted quickly as Penny's tone of voice rose higher and progressively more strained.

"It is generally thought that it was because he would have had difficulty concealing his nature to ones such as the Nazgul. Someone has powerful as that would have drawn attention to the Fellowship, especially if they had got as far as Mordor. Any great elf in the Fellowship would have done."

"But not Gandalf or Aragorn?"

"Well," she glanced at Gandalf, "certain people kept their power and true nature concealed till the time was right, but even they would have found it nigh impossible to sneak into Mordor undetected. Besides which they were travelling to Gondor, were they not?"

"I would have walked into the pit of Orodruin with Maura, Pen-ii," Aragorn said, in a determined tone of voice that left no one in any doubt that he meant it absolutely.

"I know you would have. You all would have. That is why the Fellowship had to be broken. The decision had to be made for you."

There was a brief silence.

"It was the only way. The only possible way Maura could enter Mordor was by secrecy. How best to do that with as small a number as possible? Even then he was thinking to go through the main gate. Secrecy till the last was the only way." She looked at Gandalf. "You knew Gollum would play a part, and he did. Indeed without him Bara-dur would not have fallen."

"He killed my people, Pen-ii." Legolas was looking dark. "He killed my people and tried to lead Maura to his death."

"Yes, and he also destroyed the Ring. Admittedly by accident, but that is not the point. He betrayed Maura, but not to lead him to Sauron but so he could have the Ring for himself. He lied under torture in Mordor, did you know that? That's the strength of will he had, again, no doubt, because of his kuduk blood. It probably saved Maura's life, in fact, because not until they reached Isengard did the Nazgul learn the true whereabouts of Suza. They would have got there a lot sooner otherwise."

Legolas looked like he was struggling to find an appropriate response to this. His eyes gleamed with fury (though not particularly directed at Penny, that much was clear). He said nothing.

"Forgive me, Legolas, but no one could willingly destroy the Ring. No one."

She glanced round at them, wondering whether this was news to them or not. Maura would have had to have told them, right? How else would he have lost his finger? One look at their faces told her that they knew exactly what she was referring to.

"Maura was incredibly brave," Aragorn said quietly, his jaw tight and his eyes narrowing a little as he looked at her, as if daring her to suggest otherwise.

"I know. He achieved what few if any could achieve. Kuduk have a natural resilience to the Ring. Why or how is never fully explained, but this is in part how Gollum held it for so long, though the power of the Ring was very weak at that point also."

Gandalf and Elrond looked at each other, and seemed to converse silently for a moment, expressing astonishment at the depth of knowledge show about such things in Penny's time. She was not telling them anything they did not already know or surmised for themselves, admittedly, but it was certainly extraordinary to hear her talk like this.

"That Maura managed what he did is a testament to the strength and inherent goodness of kuduk. Not only that, but without Ban by his side…" She faltered a little once more, her voice wobbling suddenly as she felt the emotion well up from nowhere and without any warning at the mention of his name. "When the Fellowship broke, it was absolutely as it should be that Banazir be the only one to accompany him. Maura could not have done it alone. Ban was his support, literally. Indeed, for that brief time, carried the Ring and saved Maura." She looked round at them all, her eyes wet with tears. "The strength of will it must have taken for him to hand the Ring back to him… As Sauron grew in strength, so did the Ring. Not only that but it grew more powerful with every step it came nearer to Mordor. For Ban to have the Ring, inside Mordor, and yet still willingly give it up…"

She shook her head, words failing her at that point to adequately describe her admiration for Sam, an admiration that had only strengthened since she had got to know him personally.

"It is clear that the knowledge you possess goes beyond the mere facts of the story," Gandalf said after a moment. "Kuduk are indeed a special people."

"You always knew as much. You knew they would have a part to play, even if they had hidden themselves away and knew nothing of the outside world."

"Indeed I did, Pen-ii, though I could little have imagined it would be quite so spectacular."

Penny did not respond. Her gaze had fallen to the floor, as if a thought had occurred to her that she was mulling over in her head.

"Pen-ii?" Elrond touched her arm. "What is it?"

She shook her head.

"Pen-ii?" Again, he was gentle but insistent. "We are here to help, to listen. You can speak freely."

She lifted her head and looked straight at him. "Did you know no one could willingly throw the Ring in Orodruin?"

Elrond seemed slightly startled by the question. He looked at Gandalf and Aragorn before looking back at Penny.

"Well…" he began, a little hesitantly. "Well, we did suspect that perhaps-"

"So how, exactly, did you think Maura would achieve it?"

"I am not sure we ever thought that far ahead," Aragorn said quietly.

Penny raised an eyebrow at him. With that many farsighted and wise people involved in the decision? She considered it highly unlikely.

"We could not know if he would even reach Mordor unscathed, let alone-"

"Kuduk are strong," Gandalf interrupted Elrond. "As you yourself said, Pen-ii, they show a particular resilience to the Ring. Bilba and Gollum had both proved that to me, even though, as you say, the Ring was that much weaker when in their possession. I had a feeling that if anyone could achieve such a thing, it would be a kuduk, and if not a kuduk then no one. Hope was hanging by a mere thread, but it was worth taking that chance. It was that or simply let Sauron do as he wished. Like you we had a choice that was no choice at all: namely, between taking a hopeless action or no action. The foolish act was the only chance we had." He paused. "No one forced Maura to go, nor was the suggestion made to him. He volunteered entirely without any prompting, though he little understood what faced him at the time."

"Better that way, perhaps," Legolas said quietly. "I feel sure he still would have insisted he be the one to do it, but he may have fallen into despair long before he reached his goal had he known what lay ahead."

"We all have our decisions to bear responsibility for, Pen-ii," Elrond said. "I know you know this. We discussed this a little at the time, I remember. None of us, now we have the gift of hindsight and Sauron is laid low at last and the Ring destroyed, would change anything done, said or acted upon. The dead will be mourned, and it grieves me sorely to have lost so many I loved so well, be they Dunedain or elf. Yes, Pen-ii, elves were lost in Lothlorien and Eryn Lasgalen, indeed even in Imladris as you well know. But we would rather have died than surrendered ourselves to the black darkness that would have consumed us otherwise."

A fierce pride burned bright in Elrond's eyes as he spoke, and Penny saw it mirrored in the others' faces also. She had not doubted it for one second, of course, and did not need to be told, but it helped, perhaps, to hear it.

She was just a witness, a bystander, and yet… and yet she found it all desperately distressing, for so many different reasons, not least of which was the shock of war and its destruction.

Not for the first time she wondered if coming to Gondor and seeing it firsthand was such a good idea.

"You are allowed to feel grief and shock, distress and anger at all that has passed, Pen-ii," Gandalf said, interrupting her thoughts as if reading them for himself. "No matter that you did not bear sword or axe, bow or knife. There are many who did not, many who stayed at home watching and waiting for news, or else tending to the wounded and the fallen. The, too have felt the heavy burden of such times. Some among them had foresight, made decisions on what to say and what to keep to themselves. You are mortal and… young. What you have been through is not easy, would not be easy for anyone, let alone one so unused to war and warriors."

Penny nodded and attempted a grateful smile. They could tell she was not wholly convinced, however.

"I am still intrigued by the level of your knowledge, Pen-ii," Legolas said brightly, no doubt trying to lift the mood a little. "Lord Elrond has told us much, but from what I understood you knew of the Council in great detail. Could it be you knew of our journey in equal detail?"

Even as Penny nodded, Elrond chimed in. "I did not doubt it for a moment. I believe Pen-ii was only hampered by the language barrier. Even so what she told me was extensive, as you already know."

"You may not have realised it, Elrond, but just now Lady Pen-ii here quoted my words back at me. They were words said privately to Razanur, I do believe."

"Privately?" Legolas seemed amused. "Is nothing safe?"

"The story I know is written from the view of the kuduk in large respect, so it is conversations they overheard or were party to that we know of."

"Given how talkative they are, most of it is no doubt already widely known", Legolas pointed out, laughing.

"Well, certain things would not be, perhaps. Is it widely known in Gondor what occurred between Boromir and Maura?"

Looks were shared amongst the four males who then looked back at Pen-ii with a mixture of astonishment and shock.

"You know about that?" Aragorn could not keep the tone of surprise out of his voice.

"Of course."

"I had wondered if you had known about that all along." Elrond seemed almost peeved. "Why did you not tell me?"

"What purpose would it have served, other than making him seem dishonourable in your eyes?"

If Elrond had looked peeved before he looked positively annoyed at that.

"I think I would have been able to understand the reasons for his actions better than you, Pen-ii," he said tersely.

Penny swallowed and looked suitably shamefaced.

"Well, I worried only because I feared my lack of Sindarin might not be able to correctly express what had happened. I also reasoned you would hear about it from others eventually and that, with the gift of hindsight, it would be better understood that while he did indeed break his word to protect Maura, he was under great pressure and showed his nobility in resisting as long as he did. He also immediately and bitterly regretted it and fought valiantly to protect Kali and Raz, giving his life in the process." She paused momentarily. It seemed very strange to be talking about him while sitting in his city in a room that no doubt he himself had known, perhaps even used. "His attempt to take the Ring perhaps only looks as bad as it might to some given who he was travelling with. Had there been more 'mere mortals' in the Fellowship, it is far less likely he would have been the first to crack, though he was indeed spurred by his love of Gondor and his inability to really comprehend the Ring's power and that it could not be used against Sauron. Had the Fellowship not broken but continued on towards Mordor with Maura, he would not have been the last to crack either."

Penny immediately regretted saying that last statement and looked up to see Aragorn and Legolas both glaring at her.

"Quite so, Pen-ii," Gandalf agreed, earning himself furious looks from Aragorn and Legolas in his turn. "I think, as hard as it may be for some to hear, you are quite right. I said as much to Maura long ago: that even I could not have wielded it, and the temptation to attempt to do so would have been great the more powerful the Ring became. As you said, Ban showed extraordinary strength in his actions within Mordor itself. The Ring was a dangerous thing even for those with stronger natures than Boromir's. Perhaps if I had been there things might have-" He glanced at Penny's stricken face. "But, no, everything was as it was meant to be."

"It was what pushed Maura to leave and to leave as he did – without telling anyone, to try and leave alone," Penny pointed out.

"Cause and effect," Aragorn said, more to himself than anyone else.

Penny nodded, still looking very distressed. "That was the entire point, that was what I had to reason through on every point: the effect of every action that I would have wished to warn you about."

There's was a brief, uncomfortable silence.

"I feel I owe you an apology, Pen-ii," Legolas said at last. "About Boromir…"

"Not at all. I… I can understand how it might have appeared."

Penny felt herself flushing a little, which was utterly ridiculous and only because of having this topic of conversation in front of these four particular individuals.

"Poor Pen-ii," Gandalf chuckled quietly. "You placed her in an impossible position, Legolas. She had no option but lie, and of course word spread."

Penny winced. She was well aware rumour and gossip had travelled. After all, Lindir had mentioned her behaviour with Boromir when she had first explained her story to him in Lothlorien, and if Lindir knew then everyone knew – that was the way of things in Imladris, it was like a law of the universe.

Legolas and Elrond glanced towards the door. Aragorn looked at them.

"I think Raz is having difficulty keeping someone out. I can hear raised voices," Elrond explained.

Aragorn sighed heavily and made to get out of his seat, but Gandalf beat him to it and went to the door to see what the problem was. The complete authority which he boomed 'Yes, can I _help_ you?' at whichever unsuspecting person was accosting Pippin made Penny raise her eyebrows in astonishment and had the other three sniggering into their goblets. They could just hear the beginnings of a stammered response as Gandalf pulled the door shut behind him.

"I am not sure what else you may wish to discuss," Aragorn was saying, "but perhaps all that needs to be said is that you should feel free to talk to any of us at any time about anything. I cannot really say fairer than that, can I? Mithrandir has explained it well enough. Yes, as warriors and leaders we have faced similar choices, perhaps heavier ones, especially in this War. Yet you must realise this only means we can understand, nor will we dismiss your worries as insignificant or worthless by comparing them to our own." He held out his hand, and Penny took it. "You are our friend, Pen-ii. You are welcome amongst us, be it in Imladris or here in Gondor. If you are in pain we would heal you and help you to the best of our ability."

There were murmurs of agreement from Elrond and Legolas.

The mood seemed changed, and with that last little speech Aragorn had not merely indicated the interview was at an end, but with the open invitation to talk any time, Penny felt little more needed to be said right now. It had been enough to talk through some of her difficulties with what had gone on, and also to be able to explain in some detail her reasoning, to prove (not that she needed to prove anything, perhaps) that she did understand the situation and had thought long and hard about what she was doing in deciding not to tell them anything.

She was grateful that no one had mentioned anything about whatever it was she had not yet told Elrond. She did not doubt for an instant he had told them all that she was still keeping something from them. She wondered for a moment when she could expect the pressure from Gandalf or Aragorn to talk. Perhaps she had done enough in this interview to show them that she… well, perhaps 'knew what she was doing' was going too far, but certainly that she did not take such decisions lightly, and the destruction of The Shire…

"Was there something else you wished to say, Pen-ii? You seem distracted."

"What? Oh, no, Lord Elrond. It has been enough just to be able to talk openly and in some detail about it all. I thank you. Though…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I was wondering if a decision had been made about where I was to stay?"

Elrond and Aragorn looked at each other. Penny glanced between them.

"Ah, well…"

"You see, Pen-ii…"

Just at that point the door opened and Gandalf reappeared.

"Sent away with a flea in his ear," Gandalf proclaimed. "I have to say Raz stood up to him valiantly. I am not sure he needed me, to be honest, but there you are. A messenger has arrived from Dol Amroth, Aragorn, that was all. I said they could wait in the throne room for you. I did find someone waiting around in the corridor for Lady Pen-ii, however."

Penny looked up to see Halladan in the doorway nodding and smiling at everyone.


	27. Echoes

**Chapter 27** – _"Echoes"_

"To what do we owe this honour?" Aragorn was leaning back in his seat, one leg stuck forward and a grin on his face.

"I was waiting to return this to Lady Pen-ii." Halladan held up the pot with the powdered tree bark inside it. "She was kind enough to give me some for my headache."

"Lady Pen-ii the healer?" Elrond laughed.

Penny gasped, though there was a smile on her face. "Are you mocking me, Lord Elrond?"

"No, no!" He held up one hand by way of apology, even as he continued to chuckle. "No, indeed, Pen-ii."

"I did not wish to intrude," Halladan said, "but Gandalf insisted."

"Of course, my boy!" Gandalf clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him into the room as he closed the door behind him. "After all, were your father alive, he would have been top of the list to be here with us, I suspect."

"Indeed he would have been," Aragorn agreed. "And he was entirely frank with you, Halladan, about Lady Pen-ii and her situation. Perhaps I should have invited you." He inclined his head a little. "Forgive me, will you not?"

"Oh, I do not think Lady Pen-ii would have benefited from my presence," Halladan replied matter-of-factly. "We have only just met, after all, and besides which, it was you she needed to speak to."

"I did ask if you would like to be here, do not forget," Penny pointed out.

There were slight raised eyebrows and exchanged glances at that which, even if Penny did not see them, Halladan certainly did.

"I think Lady Pen-ii was a little nervous about this meeting," Halladan explained hurriedly, "and we had just been discussing… Well, I had just explained to her that my father had told Arvain and me all about her situation."

"But of course, but of course." Gandalf was all affability and smiles. "No need to explain, it is entirely understandable."

"Halladan did say it would not be appropriate for him to be here uninvited," Penny added, now a little worried by Halladan's reaction that her having been so bold as to try and invite someone to a private audience with the King (even if said person _was_ the eldest son of one the King had loved dearly) was a gross faux pas. "He reassured me you were not angry and that I had nothing to worry about."

"No, indeed." Legolas was smiling. "I trust we have allayed any fears you may have had in that regard?"

As Penny nodded and thanked him, Aragorn rose from his seat.

"Well, if you will forgive me, Pen-ii…" He headed over to a small table between the two balcony doors to place his goblet on a tray there next to the jug of fruit juice and water. "I had better go and see what missive Prince Imrahil has sent me that is so important someone saw fit to try and push their way past our gallant sentry."

"Thank you once again, your Majesty."

"Not at all. I meant all that I have said, and I would ask you to think deeply on everything that has been discussed here. It may take a little time for you to accept it, perhaps, but know that we have spoken in earnest, all four of us. And as for your question just now, well, let us wait and see, shall we? Get to know Minas Tirith a little before you decide on anything. I shall instruct one of Arwen's ladies-in-waiting to befriend you and introduce you to those of the court you did not meet yesterday."

Penny was not at all sure she liked the sound of that, given what little she had seen and heard of the ladies of the court so far, but she smiled pleasantly enough.

"I thank you, that would be most gracious and kind of you."

"Good. Well, that is settled, then." He beamed. "Mithrandir, would you mind? If this is news of the Southlands, as I suspect it might be, I could use your advice."

"I will be along presently," Gandalf assured him.

Elrond and Legolas also made their excuses and left, but not before Elrond had kissed Penny gently on the brow and Legolas had kissed her hand. Legolas also told her that he had no qualms discussing anything of their trials and she had but to ask or broach the topic and he would happily talk to her about it for as long as she wished. She thanked him warmly.

"I know, Lord Legolas. After all, it was you who had to speak of the Paths of the Dead to the kuduk, was it not? Given a certain person could not bring himself to do so, much to his chagrin…"

Legolas blinked at her for a moment and then laughed out loud.

"Quite so, Pen-ii. Yes, indeed!"

Still chuckling to himself, and with a shake of his head and a grin, he left the room.

Halladan caught Gandalf's eye and murmured something about waiting outside for Penny. He shut the door behind him.

"As you know, I have to go and hear what news has come from the South, Pen-ii, so you will perhaps forgive me if I cannot talk with you in private for any length of time at present. I hope this small meeting has helped you a little, though?"

"Yes. Yes, it has, Gandalf."

And it had. It helped enormously to have been reassured they bore her no ill-will and to hear it from them in person. They had also sought to assuage her own sense of guilt. However, while she appreciated their efforts and would long reflect on their words, it would take some time for what they had said to sink in or for her to accept them. No instant cures for that. Her brain understood what they had said completely, but overcoming irrational, instinctive, emotional responses was not as easy as it seemed.

"Good. I am glad." He paused, looking down at her. "I know there is much you would ask me. I can sense it even if I did not know to look for it. Do not look so surprised, Pen-ii." He chuckled. "Do you think Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn and I have not talked about you? You have questions. I am not sure I have the answers. … Ai, do not look so downcast." He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. "I did not say I do not, only that I was not sure. You must not worry so. When you are ready, then find me and talk to me. I will give you my undivided attention and answer you as best I may."

"When I am ready?"

"Oh, I think you have more than enough to think over at the moment. You have only just arrived here in Gondor, after all, and with all the excitement of yesterday on top of it. Wait a few days till you feel more settled. Or longer if you feel you need to. After all, I quite understand that whatever answer I may have for you would be a lot to take on board, perhaps. That is all I meant."

She nodded. It was a fair suggestion, and she was still not sure she really wanted to hear the answers, or at least not if they were what she feared most they might be. It briefly flitted through her head that perhaps Gandalf knew that, that he was giving her time to perhaps get her head clearer and in a better position to accept whatever answer he may give her, good or bad.

"Now, I must attend the King."

She followed him out of the door. There was no sign of Pippin, only Halladan leaning up against the door frame. He straightened as they appeared.

"All done?"

"Yes, thank you, Halladan. Could I ask you to escort Lady Pen-ii to wherever it she intends to go? In this labyrinth of corridors I am sure she would otherwise-"

"But of course, Mithrandir. You did not need to ask, I was about to offer to do precisely that."

Gandalf nodded his head, pleased, and made to head off.

"Gandalf…"

He stopped and turned to look at Penny.

"Just… thank you. It is good to be able to talk to you once more."

"Any time, my dear. Remember that. Any time about anything. You only have to track me down."

He seemed to look at her for a second longer than might be necessary, and it made Penny momentarily uncomfortable. No sooner had she noticed it, however, than Gandalf had bidden them farewell and was heading off down the corridor at a brisk walk.

"So," Halladan said slowly.

"It was very kind of you to wait."

"Well, I promised I would, did I not?" He smiled.

There was a brief pause as they walked slowly down the corridor together.

"I told you that you had nothing to worry about," he added.

Penny nodded. "They were all very kind and understanding. Even though I think some of the things I was saying to them were probably incredibly foolish."

"I doubt that, Pen-ii."

There was another brief silence, though not an uncomfortable one.

"Where were you thinking of spending the rest of the afternoon? I am not sure where everyone has disappeared off to, though I dare say we could find them easily enough."

"I had not really put any thought to it, in all honesty."

"Well, I could show you a little of the city if you would like."

"I would like that very much."

"Oh, and here." He handed her the jar. "Thank you. I already feel much improved."

"Glad to hear it." She grinned.

They had made their way down the staircase and were just passing the door to the throne room when Penny hesitated for a moment.

"I would like to see it. Not now, obviously, since they are busy in there at the moment, but at some point."

"I am sure that could be arranged. You will be here for a couple of weeks at least."

"Yes."

Penny said nothing about the possibility of her staying a heck of a lot longer than just a couple of weeks. She did not really want to think about what it would be like to still be here in this completely new environment with all her friends gone north. Well, not all her friends, but the King and Queen would have enough to do, surely, without bothering with her…

"A coin for your thoughts?"

They had just stepped out into the bright afternoon sun.

"Oh, nothing terribly much." Penny forced a smile.

Halladan glanced at her for a moment but did not press the issue. No doubt it was something related to whatever had gone on in the meeting.

There would be a few hours till supper, and Penny, though she did not like to admit it, was feeling a little drained by the meeting. She was still in recovery, really, and the emotional stress on top of the long day of the wedding the day before, let alone a morning of hard physical labour of washing clothes, was beginning to take its toll.

Halladan was an observant sort, though, so he only took her on a gentle tour of the upper circle, stopping at points where they could look out through the walls to point out areas of interest in the circles below. After a little while, he insisted she go and take some rest.

"There will be songs and tales this evening after our repast, I do not doubt. With this many elves in the place, it is inevitable. Dancing too, I suspect. Besides which everyone is still in high spirits with the wedding. Best you go and rest now and then you can enjoy some of it at least."

"Do I really look that exhausted?"

"Well, no," Halladan conceded. "But, I can imagine you are still feeling under strength given your recent illness."

Penny knew he had a point and admitted defeat. She thanked him for the kindness he had shown and let him walk her to her door.

'Such chivalry,' she thought, grinning, as she climbed the stairs to her chambers. 'Being walked to my door and chaperoned by some tall, dark, handsome warrior. I could get used to this.'

Supper was more akin to that which they had had that first evening of their arrival, though there were plenty of cold meats no doubt left over from the previous day's feasting. The King and Queen were there, and several Gondorian nobles. Afterwards many more Gondorians joined them and space was made in the huge Hall of Feasts for a little dancing if people so wished, though tables and benches were left also. People milled about in the Hall and the courtyard outside, chatting, singing, reciting poetry or ballads, and generally having a high old time.

Throughout it all, Penny was aware that, even if she had not previously noticed how burdened she had been, she certainly realised it now in retrospect. For the first time since she came to Minas Tirith, she felt she was relaxed and more at ease.

Not completely, though. There were enough injured men around to remind her of what she would willingly forget. Being asked to dance by a Dunadan with an eye-patch was a tad unnerving, but she steeled her resolve and accepted graciously. She also managed to look him in the face every time he spoke to her without staring at the patch and wondering what horror lay underneath it. Given the still livid scar stretching into his forehead and his cheek from either side of it, she dreaded to imagine.

Halladan, as ever, kept himself at one remove from any levity, she noted. In particular he would brusquely stand up and stalk off if anyone started singing or telling tales of the War, be it the battles or particular warriors, whether living or dead.

She was more acutely aware of Halladan doing so, for obvious reasons, but it was also clear he was not the only one. There were a few sullen looking individuals ranged about, though most of them seemed to be trying to put a brave face on it all. The benches and tables served as good cover and they could sit and watch from a distance without feeling like they were letting the side down completely. The majority were clearly recovering from terrible injuries with part or the whole of a leg or arm missing, or their faces scarred.

Halladan seemed most at ease armed with a jug of ale and a pipe out in the open. Often Penny would come out for some air and spot him, sometimes alone, but more often with one or two fellow Dunedain sitting and smoking in silence alongside him.

In contrast, Arvain seemed most comfortable in the loudest company possible, invariably with a small crowd of young ladies simpering after him. She wondered if he had always been that way or if that was his way of escaping his memories.

The two brothers could not have been more different.

"Has Halladan always been like that?"

Penny was sitting outside on the steps with Lindir.

"Like what? A bit of a loner? Yes, in some ways, but that is also the way of the Dunedain of the North, do not forget. They spend long weeks or even months alone in the wild, so they have to learn to be happy with their own company. They are also a people who never say ten words where one will do."

"Indeed."

Penny remembered those first few nights in Middle-earth with Halbarad. He would stare for hours into the fire, sucking on his pipe, seemingly content with the darkness and the silence.

"Arvain is very different, though."

"Ah, well, he's still young. He takes more after his mother in many ways, and is very different to Halladan, it is true. When their mother died… well, I think Halladan felt some of the burden of looking after the family, as the eldest son, even though he was little more than a boy himself in some respects. It was he and Halbarad together looking after the other two in his mind, I think. He and his father were very close, which is not say Halbarad was not close to Arvain or Hirvell, but he and Halladan had a very particular bond."

There was a silence.

"Grief takes people in different ways, Pen-ii. Halladan will find his way, I am sure of it."

"I think Arvain is worried about him."

Lindir looked at her, surprised.

"I overheard them last night. They… well, Halladan was a little drunk and they were arguing."

"Oh, brothers always argue. I always argued with mine."

Penny stared at him. "You have a brother?"

"Did I not mention him to you? We fought on the Dagorlad together. Of course, I was a very young ellon at the time."

Penny thought that was an odd thing to say. Why tell her his brother had fought at the…?

Unless…

"Was he killed?" she asked tentatively.

Lindir nodded. "Many were, Pen-ii," he replied, his voice quiet. "It was a terrible battle."

"I-I am so sorry, Lindir."

"Oh, do not be sorry, Pen-ii." Lindir smiled gently. "I will see him again, and soon, I hope. When I sail West I shall meet many whom I have long yearned to see once more."

For a moment, Lindir's gaze was drawn to the far distance and his smile broadened a little, as if lost in memories that were very dear to him. Penny wondered if he was still thinking about his brother. Somehow she suspected he was not, though she was not entirely sure why she felt so certain.

"What are you two doing sitting out here? You should be inside! There is some lovely singing going on. Oh, it is so wonderful to have the elves here. Not that the people of Gondor have not shown us much hospitality and kindness, but the place seems so alive and bright with you all here."

Merry was positively beaming as he spoke. Lindir and Penny let him drag them back inside.

The singing was indeed lovely, though things were far less formal than they had been at the wedding, with people milling about, talking and laughing even as whatever song or performance was taking place. If it was a performer who was known or considered to be particularly gifted, or it was a song or story that was well loved, then the Hall would fall quiet for the duration, but otherwise there was a constant hubbub of socialising going on.

As for what Merry had said about the city seeming more alive than it had in a while with such beauty and nobility walking its streets, it seemed he was not the only one to make such a comment. Indeed, already the elves were having a not dissimilar effect to the one they had had in Rohan. Admittedly, the situation was not nearly so acute, given the level of skill of the healers of Minas Tirith, as well, of course, as the healing hands of the King and the lore and skill of an elf and a Maia on call to boot, but even so there were many hurts still to be cured, and not all of them physical or immediately apparent.

When Mireth had gently woken Penny from her nap before time to wash and change for dinner, she had explained she had been to the Houses of Healing at Elrond's behest to see if there was anything that they could help with, any cases that had defeated the healers where elvish skill might serve.

"It is not as bad as in Rohan, but there are still some in bed, others who are newly returned to that place."

"Newly returned?"

Mireth had nodded.

"Wounds that have reopened, or failed to heal properly. If someone tried to save a limb when it should have been cut off at the first, well…"

Penny had stared at her open-mouthed. They were still removing limbs! And the only anaesthetic to speak of would probably be to get horribly drunk and bite down on something, she assumed. She had shuddered in horror at the thought.

Thus even here in Gondor the after-effects of the War were still being keenly felt. People were still dying, if in far fewer numbers. To have the elves here, with their ability to bring comfort and joy just by the light in their faces was considered a blessing indeed.

A page appeared at the side of Penny, informing her that the Queen was asking for her.

"At last! I have been hoping to catch you all evening, Pen-ii!" Arwen smiled warmly. She patted a seat next to hers, insisting Penny sit next to her. "The King told me all about this afternoon," she whispered quietly into her ear, taking her hand in her own. "I am glad. I hope it has eased your heart a little."

"It has, Arwe-… er, Your Majesty, thank you."

Arwen laughed gently. "It will take just as long for me to get used to, I do not doubt."

Eleniel leaned over. "I keep calling her Arwen, too, Pen-ii. I am not sure the ladies approve."

There were murmurs of protests from some of the ladies-in-waiting nearby.

Arwen and Eleniel introduced Penny to those she had not already met. One, a young woman about Penny's age, called Meresel, was to be her guide. She smiled pleasantly at Penny and said she would look forward to it.

Lady Sidhwen was there, however, and looked less than pleased at the idea that Penny was about to become a regular amongst the ladies of Gondor for the duration of her stay.

"Ah, Lord Faramir. You have met Lady Pen-ii, have you not?"

"I have indeed, Lady Eleniel." Faramir graciously inclined his head, and Penny returned the gesture. "She is the lady who knew my brother, and spoke so warmly of him."

Lady Sidhwen looked intrigued. "You know Boromir?" Her Sindarin was fractured and the accent thick.

"I knew him, yes," Penny replied.

"Knew." Lady Sidhwen smiled thinly as she corrected herself. "Sindarin not strong for me."

"Oh, I did not mean it as a correction, I was just replying," Penny said hurriedly.

It was clear Lady Sidhwen did not follow all of what she said, however, since Meresel translated for her. She nodded and smiled, but Penny somehow felt that she did not believe Penny meant what she had said for a moment.

"Not all ladies speak Sindar," Meresel explained, herself making a few mistakes. "The men learn. We do not. Learn by ear only."

"It is not often used outside of academic or diplomatic circles," Faramir explained. "Thus, of course, the women are not as fluent. Many do not speak it at all even among the nobility."

"Indeed?" Penny could not keep the tone of astonishment out of her voice. "Women are not educated?"

"Of course they are!" Faramir laughed. "Most ladies can read a little. Some can even write."

Penny glanced round her in some surprise that this was considered sufficient 'education' that even most noblewomen were only semi-literate. She found Eleniel regarding her with a 'well, I am just as perplexed as you' expression on her face, Arwen looking vaguely amused at Penny being so obviously taken aback, and the ladies-in-waiting looking a mixture of awkward, defiant or even on the edge of outrage.

"A lady has no need of books," Lady Sidhwen said loudly in Westron.

"I love books," Penny retorted, a smile on her face and shrugging her shoulders. "I was educated for many years. From the age of three to the age of twenty-one."

"Really?" Eleniel was impressed, even if many of the ladies of Gondor looked non-plussed or even amused by this idea.

"I like books," Meresel chipped in. She gave Penny a soft smile and Penny returned it. Perhaps this would be a friend in amongst the lions' den. "I borrow from my brothers. Read their books."

"Lady Meresel here is a rare prize in Gondor," Faramir said, smiling. "She is a boon to her husband, and a wonderful mother."

Penny blinked. This woman was married and with children! She looked about her own age!

"Children?"

"Two. Two boys."

"Oh."

"You?"

"No, no. I am not married."

"Really?" Now it was Lady Meresel's turn to look surprised.

"A charming young lady such as yourself? For shame!" Faramir was being very chivalrous, Penny decided.

"Well, I think ladies marry when they are a little older than we might expect where Lady Pen-ii hails from, Faramir," Awen explained. "If the women are busy learning to such a late age, it is not surprising, perhaps."

"They must be great scholars."

Faramir was not being facetious. Or not that Penny could tell, at any rate. The sniggering that erupted amongst the women left her in a little doubt, though.

"I would not go that far," Penny mumbled.

"Ellith are learned in many skills," Eleniel chipped in. "We make no distinction in such things, as I am sure you know, so we are as educated as the males amongst us."

"We learn things that will help us to be wives and mothers," Meresel replied. "Running a house, cooking, sewing… Many things. And we do learn little. Not like the poorer in Minas Tirith. We do speak little Sindar."

"You do not speak Westron?" Lady Sidhwen seemed at pains to point out Penny's failings. Penny wondered how old she actually was, since she seemed to appear younger and younger every time she opened her mouth as far as she was concerned.

"No. I little learn," Penny replied falteringly, so proving herself to be as poor a Westron speaker as Lady Sidhwen was a Sindarin speaker.

"Which reminds me," Arwen interrupted. "Lord Erestor said to inform you that your lessons would begin again tomorrow morning."

"Oh, no," Penny groaned.

"You do not wish to learn Westron?" Faramir grinned. "Well, I will admit I think Sindarin the fairer language."

"I find it difficult, that is all. It has taken me long enough to learn Sindarin."

"You did not speak Sindarin either?" Faramir seemed intrigued. "Ah, yes, King Elessar did explain your situation. You were found lost and wandering, is that not so? By Lord Halbarad, Lord Halladan's father?"

Penny nodded, aware that, as Faramir's words were translated amongst the ladies who could not understand them fully, the whispering and nudging had increased a little.

"A good and noble man from what I hear," he said more quietly. "I am sorry I never got to meet him. If his sons are anything to judge by, however, I can only imagine…"

Which provoked a sudden flurry of interest from the ladies of Gondor who began, all at once, to declare that the Dunedain were indeed very noble, brave and most handsome individuals ("Arvain especially," one dreamy-eyed maiden sighed). There was even a muttered comment about Halladan may well be noble but could do with being a bit more sociable. Faramir rounded in the direction of the speaker.

"Have a care, ladies," he said sternly. "Halladan is a man after my own heart, and I consider him a true friend. He has suffered much, as I am sure you well know. He is entitled to his grief, and you should not judge him for it. Nor is he the only one to find his losses hard to bear. We could name a good dozen at least or more who are here in this room who have been changed by what they have seen and what they have lost. Indeed, have we not all been changed in some way?"

There were a few ashamed blushes at that, mainly among the younger women who shuffled awkwardly and avoided Faramir's stern glare. The older women tutted at them and shook their heads.

"Oh, I think they only meant that they have noticed that he is young, brave warrior and they would wish to have him dance with them and sweep them off their feet the way his brother has." Arwen smiled knowingly at the ladies of the court as she said this and Penny noticed the colour on some of the maidens's cheeks turned a shade deeper.

Ah, so Halladan had his admirers from afar, did he?

She smirked.

At the same time she also felt vaguely irritated on his behalf. She might have only known him for a day or two, but she got the distinct impression that silly chits of girls were the last thing Halladan would be interested in. But then, who was she to say, after all?

"I think you will like Meresel," Eleniel said as they walked back to their chambers together. Mireth was with them and several other ellith who were lodged in their building.

"I hope so," Penny replied. "Some of the ladies of Gondor seem… well… er…"

She did not know how to say 'complete bitches' in Sindarin, which was perhaps no bad thing.

Eleniel laughed. "I know what you mean. Trust me, Arwen will quickly deal with any nonsense. I am not sure they have the measure of her yet. There will be quite a shock for one or two at some point in the future, I suspect."

Eleniel seemed to find this highly entertaining. Clearly Arwen, for all her quiet wisdom, did not suffer fools gladly. Penny almost hoped something might happen where she could witness it because it would be quite amusing to see some of the condescending cows put in their places.

Lady Sidhwen for starters.

Penny was not sure exactly what she had against her, only that she disliked her almost instantly. That said, she had the distinct impression the feeling was mutual, so she did not feel too guilty about it. Her simpering over Arvain at the wedding had already left Penny distinctly underwhelmed given she had been so obvious about it. Not only that, but Penny suspected she was exactly the sort of fickle trollop that, if she thought someone more eligible might be available, would drop Arvain in an instant for all her fawning over him. She had always loathed women like that. Judging from the general way most of the ladies of the court behaved, though, Lady Sidhwen was not unique by any means. All in all, it made the prospect of staying in Gondor indefinitely even less favourable as far as Penny was concerned.

As they were getting themselves washed and undressed, Penny mentioned Lindir's brother, explained she had not even realised he had one.

"He never mentioned him before. I can understand if he finds it difficult to talk about."

"Oh, it will not be that, Pen-ii," Mireth replied. "Lindir misses him, of course, but long overcame his loss. You have only known him a short time, do not forget. I am sure it simply never came up before, that is all."

A short time? Well, I suppose to an elf it would be a short time. To Penny it already felt like a lifetime in some ways.

"Besides, so many fell on the Dagorlad, it is perhaps unsurprising you have not caught up with all those who were lost," Eleniel said quietly.

There was something about the glance Mireth threw her, kindly and sympathetic, that made Penny pause. Eleniel saw her quizzical look.

"The ellon I loved fell in that battle," she explained. "I never had the courage to tell him how I felt before he left, and then…" She stopped and smiled sadly. "He may not have returned my affection, I do not know. It is perhaps foolish of me to have waited all this time."

"Not at all." Mireth took her friend's hand in hers. "You know what Lindir and Naurdir said about him – that he seemed to take a special interest in you. I feel sure he felt the same way, and when you see him once more he will tell you so, and tell you how the thought of you had him champing at the bit to leave Mandos as soon as he might."

Eleniel smiled gratefully, and Mireth hugged her. Penny came over and sat on the cot next to her.

"I'm sorry, Eleniel, I had no idea…"

"Do not apologise, Pen-ii. As Mireth said, many fell and many young ellyn in particular. I am not the only elleth who was bereft of her love so young. Perhaps it was harder for those who were betrothed or newly married, indeed I am sure it was."

"Well, yes," Mireth murmured. "Look at Lindir."

"Lindir?"

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a glance.

"You must not tell him we told you, Pen-ii, indeed it might be best never to mention it unless he does, but…" Mireth glanced at Eleniel uncertainly for a moment before she continued. "Well, I was still very young when it happened. I knew her, and she was a good friend of Eleniel's …"

Mireth hesitated again as Eleniel rose and crossed over to the window, staring out into the night sky.

"Eleniel, if this is going to upset you…"

"No, it is perhaps better Pen-ii knows since she does not already. I would rather she hear it from one of us than perhaps say something unwittingly."

"Mireth is right, Eleniel. Perhaps she can wait until we are alone."

"Really, I am not upset." Eleniel turned back to them and they could see she was smiling, if sadly. "She was my friend and I miss her, but I will see her soon. As will Lindir, and his loss was greater." She looked at Penny. "As you have no doubt guessed they were betrothed. Indeed, they were only a month or two away from their marriage when it happened."

"She died. I can guess that also." Penny realised that this was upsetting, but there also seemed to be more to this than she could immediately surmise.

There was a pause.

"Pen-ii has anyone ever mentioned Lady Celebrían to you?" Eleniel asked at last. "Why she sailed?"

Penny was dumbstruck. Celebrían was rarely spoken of, but when she was, it was in terms that made it clear she was much loved and much missed. Her capture and whatever horrors she may have suffered were never spoken of or even hinted at, however.

"I know her story," she said slowly and carefully. "Or the barest details, at least."

Mireth and Eleniel seemed surprised.

"I know she was captured by orcs in the mountains, and that despite Lord Elrond's best efforts to heal her, she could not bear to remain here."

Eleniel nodded. "She was not travelling alone, Pen-ii, as you would not doubt assume. Meluieth was a close companion of Celebrían. The two had much in common. She… she did not survive the attack."

"I remember when they brought back her body," Mireth said very quietly. "Lindir was so distraught. He would not speak for days."

A heavy silence fell for a moment.

Penny opened her mouth to say she was sorry (again), but the words seem woefully inadequate. She was still struggling to find something appropriate to say when she realised Eleniel had left the window and was now standing in front of her. Eleniel held out her hand and Penny took it.

"Thank you. I know what you would say or would try and express, and I thank you for it. Do not feel sad. She is with Mandos and at peace. Whatever she suffered, it was quick, or so they said. Do not feel shy to speak her name, either. They fought honourably and hard against their attackers, even if they were overcome at the last. I am proud to have had her as a friend, and I look forward to seeing her again."

She released Penny's hand and sat on the floor next to Penny, her head resting back against the cot mattress.

"It may be Lindir will himself speak of her to you one day," she continued, "but he rarely mentions her even to me or others who knew her well. Not because it is too painful so much as that he is content that he will see her again and to remember her quietly by himself is enough. He is at peace. If you can understand that…"

"Yes, I can understand that."

And she did. Even if she had never experienced such a thing herself.

It seemed strange to think of elves affected by grief, given their immortality, and yet she had seen their reaction to the death of the elf on the borders of Imladris. Loss was as real to them as to a mortal in many ways.

There was little more to be said after that. Penny was glad she knew, glad she had not got round to asking a question that had been niggling at her for a while now: why Lindir was unmarried and had he really never found the right elleth for himself.

'Poor Lindir,' she thought to herself as she fell asleep. 'Poor Lindir and poor Eleniel.'

It just went to show that much had been lost thanks to Sauron long before this current War and that the elves, perhaps even more than the mortals involved, knew just how much.

* * *

Author's Note: 

I just wanted to say a few things about these plotlines for Lindir and Eleniel. Both have been in my head for a long, long while and I've just been waiting for the right moment for them to come out and Penny to be told about them.

I do not see either of them (Lindir and Eleniel, that is) as being unique particularly. As I have tried to have people point out to Penny on various occasions (not that she needs telling) the War of the Last Alliance was long and vicious (12 years, if memory serves?) and many fell. Mirkwood was particularly hard hit, of course (one third of its army lost and its king), let alone the fall of Gil-galad, High King of the Elves. Lindir and Eleniel are only two of many who would have lost fathers, brothers, sons and lovers in that battle. My apologies to those who have long pleaded for Lindir and Penny to get together (or even Lindir and Eleniel) – it was never my intention. He will remain like a brother to her and sail West and see his love once more.

As for the Celebrían element: it is not at all unreasonable to presume Celebrían would have had ellith with her – both as companions and as the nearest thing to ladies-in-waiting – let alone warrior ellyn. In fact I would say you'd have to come up with a very good reason as to why that would not be the case. Given she was captured, it can only mean the rest were all either slaughtered or captured with her. That only she is mentioned as having been rescued, I have taken poetic licence and made it that most were killed and only a few captured of which she was the sole survivor, though really it's anyone's guess (other than Tolkien's, obviously).


	28. Life Goes On

**Chapter 28** – _"Life Goes On"_

Even if Arwen had not already passed on the message, Penny would have not had any excuse. Erestor managed to grab hold of her before she left the Hall for her chambers that night to remind her about the Westron lesson, and then the following morning he made a point of calling her over to sit with him for breakfast just to make doubly certain.

Thus there would be no escaping The Westron Lesson of Doom.

Since the Hall of Feasts was now being used for both lunch and supper, it was little extra effort to provide seating and tables for breakfasting, though some still chose to eat in their chambers or out in the courtyard. The Gondorians did not join them for this meal, nor did the King and Queen (who breakfasted alone).

Erestor was deep in conversation with Glorfindel and Frodo as Penny came over to join them, Mireth with her.

"Westron lesson this morning, Pen-ii. You have not forgotten?"

Penny tried not to sigh too heavily. "No, Erestor, I had not forgotten."

"Ah, good," Frodo said. "I have told Pen-ii I would help her practice her vocabulary, Erestor. It seems to have helped with her Sindarin, after all."

If Erestor was alarmed by the idea of Penny having a third person trying to muscle in on her Westron teaching, he did not show it.

"Why, thank you, Maura. That would be most helpful."

"What is this?" A tall, blond figure had just walked up to their table to join them.

There was the briefest flicker of alarm on Erestor's face.

"Oh, nothing terribly impor-"

"Penny is to start her Westron lessons, Lord Rhimlath," Frodo explained.

He turned to Penny with a 'Now, then' and started pointing at every item on the table and getting her to repeat the word after him, just as he had done so many months before in Imladris with Sindarin.

Rhimlath opened his mouth to say something as he watched Frodo at work, saw Erestor giving him a hard look, glanced back at Frodo and closed his mouth again. He sat down and helped himself to some fruit instead. Perhaps there was a benefit to having Frodo involved after all, Penny decided. Rhimlath could hardly correct a native Westron speaker, even if the accent and some of the words were different from Gondorian Westron.

Penny flashed a small smirk in Erestor's direction. He raised an eyebrow at her but was clearly trying to hide a smile at the same time. No doubt he was thinking exactly what Penny was thinking.

The moment the meal was finished, Erestor picked up two books that he had kept beside him all through breakfast and lead Penny off outside at a brisk walk and then through a small side door in a nearby building. Down two corridors and up one flight of stairs they at last came to a small room which had little more than a table with two benches in it. There was also a large, framed slate propped up against one wall and a smaller one on the table with some chalk.

"Ah, good, good. Everything is prepared as I asked it would be. Excellent."

Penny blinked. Proper lessons? As in writing and learning script and all that same palaver she had gone through with Sindarin? Her heart sank.

"Erestor, I really do not think I can…"

"Yes, you can, Pen-ii. It may take time, admittedly, and more than we have available, but it will not hurt to try. I am sure you will absorb a little of what we go over in this manner, and perhaps a lot more than that. You may surprise yourself."

"I doubt it," Penny muttered.

And so it began.

Erestor decided to start by going back over much that he had tried to teach her while they had travelled. Seeing it written down, even in a completely different script, did help to consolidate it in Penny's mind a little, though she still could barely remember anything of her vocabulary. At the end of it all Erestor seemed a little exasperated. He was pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to stave off a migraine.

"Ai, Pen-ii, Pen-ii, Pen-ii. What shall we do with you? You have barely retained anything I have taught you."

"With all due respect, Erestor, the constant bickering between you and Rhimlath did not help particularly."

"Yes, yes, I quite accept my responsibility in all that. Lindir's meddling only served to confuse you further as well, and what with the long break due to your illness… I think we shall have to insist people talk only in Westron to you from now on."

"What! No! Erestor, please, you can't!"

"But you will never learn otherwise. If you are to stay here you need to…"

"I thought no decision had been made about that?" Penny retorted snappily, suddenly angry.

She had always felt closer to Erestor than with many other elves, given the amount of time they had spent together with all those lessons. Hence, while he was perhaps not quite as close a friend or as 'pally' as Lindir or Celebdor, her pent-up frustration at the situation was showing itself more with him than it might have done with Elrond or Glorfindel.

"Well, no, I don't think any…"

"So it could be a complete waste of time in that case, might it not?"

"I would not say that." Now Erestor was getting annoyed in his turn. "I am sorry you do not appreciate my efforts to help you, Pen-ii."

"I do appreciate it, Erestor, but I am just not sure I appreciate the motive behind it."

Erestor blinked at her for a moment, clearly shocked.

"I _beg_ your pardon?"

His face was furious.

"No one has once asked me what _I_ might want to do! Everyone is saying I should take my time to decide and yet at the same time it seems as if the decision has been made for me. Perhaps I do not _want_ to stay here. Perhaps I do not feel particularly welcome or at ease here given the attitude of the women of the court and the destruction all around me that I feel partially responsible for. I am well aware you are all leaving soon, but Imladris will not be completely empty even after that." She faltered then, realising perhaps that she was way out of line speaking in this way to Erestor, let alone had let herself go off on a complete tangent. "Perhaps I have been too much of a burden there. I realise it would perhaps be easier for me to come to live here. It is just that… Now I am face to face with mortals once more I realise just how very different I am from them. I know that probably does not make much sense. I am the same and yet… not."

Erestor moved round to her side of the table and sat down on the bench next to her, his back against the table top.

"You should have told us you were feeling like this."

"I would have thought it was obvious. I think some of this was guessed in the meeting I had yesterday. Being here is a bit overwhelming."

"I am sure it is. Did Gandalf and Aragorn not tell you to take your time? That is why they advised you so. Your initial reaction to this place is understandable, but once that is over and you begin to find your feet you may begin you feel differently. If not, then…"

Penny looked at him. "Then?"

"You will always have a home in Imladris. Lord Elrond told you that long before, Pen-ii, and he meant it. He does not begrudge you a place in his household, nor do any of us."

He smiled kindly at her, wondering, not for the first time, at how mortal and very young she could be at times.

"So we will be leaving soon, you say? Is that soon by your standards or ours, I wonder?"

"Ours."

"Ah." He nodded and his smile broadened. "As you say, not all will leave immediately. Some have ties here. Some have been here so long it will not be easy to leave knowing they will never return. Some will choose to stay, and those who leave their loved ones behind will find that a hard choice indeed."

"Indeed." She thought over the things she had learnt the night before. "But there are those that will be waiting for them in Valinor. Eleniel and Mireth were telling me a little about it last night."

"Were they?"

"About lost siblings and loves… I felt so very sad. It must be wonderful to have that certainty, though, to know you will see them again."

"You do not share that?"

"Well, I… I do not know. I never… I mean, I thought the fate of the mortals was unknown."

"And so it is, but many have their theories and their beliefs."

Penny could see Erestor was regarding her with some curiosity. She was not sure she dared admit to him her complete lack of belief in anything terribly much prior to arriving in Middle-earth. She still found the idea of Valinor, the Valar and the Maiar actually existing a little mind-blowing if she really stopped to think about it.

"Well, yes," she said at last. "Every culture has its ideas but in the end no one really knows, do they?"

"Oh, I think mortals will see each other again. Whether mortals and immortals will see each other even after the world is unmade is another matter. When we lose you we truly do not know if we will ever meet once more. That is a cause of great grief to us, especially concerning those we love dearly."

"Like Arwen," Penny said quietly, before she could stop it falling out of her mouth.

Erestor was silent for a moment.

"Yes," he said at last. "Like Arwen. Idril's husband was given immortality alongside her. Alas for Arwen her fate lies elsewhere. We can only hope that at the end of time we will be reunited with her."

Erestor looked away and Penny did not say anything for a while.

"I always felt so very sorry for Elrond," she said quietly at long last. "When I read the stories, I mean."

Erestor turned back to her, his gaze a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"What he went through as an elfling, then to lose his brother, his daughter, and to almost…" She hesitated.

"Lose his wife?" Erestor finished for her.

Penny nodded.

"It was a dreadful business." Erestor shook his head, as if lost for words for a moment. "Truly dreadful."

"Eleniel told me about Meluieth… and Lindir."

"Ah. I see. Yes, that was a bitter blow to him. Poor Celebrían felt burdened by every death in that party. I only hope Valinor has helped to heal her hurts… Of the heart, I mean," he added. "In some ways the physical wounds were the easiest to heal, even if she was close to death for some time." His voice was quiet once more, and it was as if he was talking to himself, lost in the memory of it, observing it from a distance. He glanced up at Penny. "You never mentioned her before now. You never let us know you knew."

"I… I was not sure if it was not too painful a subject. I did not dare mention it."

"No more painful, perhaps, to Elrond than Arwen's choice. Indeed that is more so in some ways, since Celebrian is waiting in Valinor for him. He will see her again and, so you say, soon. But your tact and understanding are appreciated, Pen-ii, I thank you. There were several killed and others… well, let us just say it was a terrible time for all those who knew them."

Penny wondered, not for the first time, at how carefree and full of joy elves could be given the amount of sorrows they had lived through.

"Time passes," Erestor continued, almost as if she had spoken her thoughts out loud. "Wounds heal, even if the memory of them never fully recedes. We must move on and live our lives. This is one of the things many find hard, whether mortal or immortal: that life goes on. We have the time to come to terms with that fact. We have long years and ages in which to grieve and walk out of our darkness to a better understanding and acceptance. For mortals it is, perhaps, a more difficult path. They have little time to recover, and death assails them from all sides and from old age, sickness and disease far more than war or violence. Perhaps therein lies a balance. Death is not common for us, and so perhaps it is all the more shocking when it occurs, but we also have the time to recover from that. Death is all too common for mortals, and perhaps they are therefore better able to recover more quickly from their loss and pain."

"Perhaps."

"It is only a theory, only my observations. There are always exceptions: mortals who carry the weight of their grief for long, long years and perhaps never fully recover, or else immortals for whom the loss is too great and they fade..." He paused briefly, his face suddenly desperately sad as if he was remembering those he had seen this happen to. "After the War of the Last Alliance many who had lost husbands or sons… Many ellith sailed West and some… some went West by other means."

"Is that when..?"

"Yes, my wife sailed then. She lost a brother, her father and an uncle. She was also very concerned for a friend of hers who was near inconsolable with grief. She felt it best they sail together before she faded. To be in the presence of the Valar as well as to be that much nearer to Mandos's Halls seemed to her to be the only thing that might give her friend the strength to stay. I could understand her reasoning. I supported her in her decision."

"You must miss her."

"I do. It has been a long time. But then I know she waits for me, as I do for her. Separation is not as hard for us, since time is relative, but that is not to say we are completely impervious to its trials and difficulties. Indeed that was my other point: there are immortals who find it hard to cope with loss and separation, but then equally the same is true for mortals. We have seen it happen many times."

Again his face grew sad and Penny could see the weight of Ages in his eyes.

"I think it always hits the women hardest. I know here in Gondor there have been women sorely affected by their loss, just as they were after the Battle of the Dagorlad, since many men fell then also. It was not only elves that paid with their lives during those bitter years. I have even known women…" He stopped abruptly. "But, no. Let us talk of more cheerful things." He smiled and forced a laugh. "Look at us, sitting here, drowning in melancholy. Dear me, this will not do."

"What were you going to say?"

Erestor looked at her for a moment.

"Some things are best not known unless you have no choice, Pen-ii. Trust me, I would not wish you burdened with such things. Now, come. I think we have talked enough today, and certainly the lesson is at an end. I have here a Westron translation of 'Quenta Silmarillion' for you to read while you are here. It is not a gift, I am afraid. I have managed, with much persuading, to borrow this from the large library they have here, and it will need to be returned there." It was quite a tome, with thick pages bound in leather, gilded and decorated. "I want you to slowly read this, using your Sindarin copy as a guide. Then each lesson you will read aloud from the book, translating as you go."

Penny groaned. "You are not making this easy, are you, Erestor?"

"Of course not." He grinned.

"What is that other book?"

As she asked, Erestor stood and made his way to the door. Penny followed him out into the corridor.

"Oh, that's a Westron grammar I also managed to get a copy of. I will use that as a reference during lessons if I need to."

Penny laughed. "You are not letting Rhimlath's taunts get to you, are you?"

"Certainly not!" Erestor looked most affronted. "I meant as a reference to show you regarding any particular grammar point or for exercises, not to remind myself of-"

"If you say so, Erestor."

"Now look here, young lady…!"

"I believe you! I believe you!" She smirked. "I am not sure Lindir will, though, but still…"

Erestor spluttered for a moment. "Lindir knows me too well to think such things about me."

"That will not stop him from saying them, though."

"You do not need to tell him, you know."

"I do not _need_ to, no…"

Erestor made an exasperated sound. "You are spending entirely too much time in Lindir's company, Pen-ii! You are becoming nearly as infuriating as he is!"

Penny giggled. "I will take that as a compliment."

Erestor shook his head, chuckling as he did so.

"Incidentally, what did you mean by what you said about the ladies of Gondor? They strike me as charming and exhibiting a nobility that becomes their lineage."

Penny looked at him. "_All_ of them, Erestor?"

"Well, some are little _young_… And perhaps to have so many fair and noble males in Minas Tirith has made the youngest a little _giddy_…"

Penny had to stop herself from laughing.

"Have you not seen the way some fawn over the Dunedain and any ellon passing? And I thought I saw several trying to persuade you to dance at the wedding, despite your best efforts to put them off. Celebdor said he had to rescue you and Glorfindel at one point. Apparently you had collected quite a little admiring crowd."

"Ah, well." Erestor flushed a little and looked awkward. "That was… Celebdor has no right saying such things!"

Penny laughed out loud, and Erestor, admitting defeat, found himself joining in.

"You must know how women can be, Erestor. Especially if they are young, single and feel they have to compete for a man. I suspect I am seen as both an oddity and a threat. I am known by the elves and befriended by the Dunedain…"

"You are also a friend to the King and Queen," Erestor added. "Yes, I take your point. However, there are many ladies of Gondor who are noble and charming, as I said just now. I feel sure you will find the measure of them and discover those who are worthy of your friendship. Arwen will not allow ill manners or malicious character in her circle, trust me, Pen-ii. If needs be rely on her and those she seems closest to. That is the best advice I can give you."

"Yes, thank you, Erestor. I intend to do just that."

She suspected, however, that a select few would be difficult to avoid, especially if they were determined to go gunning for her despite her best efforts to stay out of their way.

'Just let them try it,' she thought.

"I would like to see the library. Is it open to the public?"

"The public? I hardly think so!" Erestor seemed to find the idea amusing. "It is rare to find someone below the rank of nobility who can read. Besides which the library is mainly a store of very ancient and precious texts."

"Even so…"

"I can introduce you to the librarian if you wish. A fascinating fellow… In fact, that would be a very good idea. I think you would enjoy hearing what he has to say on the history and peoples of Gondor."

Penny beamed. She would like that very much indeed.

They made an arrangement to meet by the White Tree at the seventh hour, and Erestor left her out in the courtyard as he went to find Elrond. Penny made her way across the courtyard to take her book back to her room.

"So, how was the lesson?"

A small group of elves were sitting on the grass, enjoying the sunshine. Rhimlath was among them. There were a few lords and ladies of Gondor were hovering nearby as well, a few other elves mingling with them.

"Very good," Penny lied, feeling she needed to defend Erestor before Rhimlath could try and get a dig in. "Erestor is an excellent teacher."

"He is indeed. Though I have no doubt all that extra tuition I was able to give you on the journey down here as helped. I have laid down a solid base from which Erestor can fine tune whatever he feels it is appropriate to teach you."

Penny wanted to tell Rhimlath he was an arrogant arse who had done more to confuse her than help, but bit her tongue given Faramir walked past at that point with Glorfindel and Faelon.

Glorfindel, who had overheard the conversation and had seen the flash of irritation on Penny's face, could not help himself. He halted as he passed by the group.

"Rhimlath, we love you dearly, but you are a fatuous, self-important windbag at times. I feel sure Pen-ii would tell you so but she is too polite and is restraining herself. I, on the other hand, have known you all your life and can tell you such a thing with impunity."

Laughter erupted around him as Rhimlath reddened slightly and looked decidedly annoyed.

"Ah, Glorfindel!" Lindir was smirking his head off as he spoke. "Always able to say that which others would restrain themselves from saying out loud even if they are thinking it."

"It is the diplomat in him," Rhimlath said icily, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Oooh, is that fighting talk, Rhimlath?" Glorfindel retorted, one eyebrow raised and a grin on his face.

Rhimlath rounded on Lindir. "And what do you mean 'even if they are thinking it'!"

Faramir appeared astonished, if amused, and looked to Penny and Faelon as if by way of explanation. They were both laughing also and Penny held her hands up in the direction of Faramir as if to say 'not guilty, your honour, it's nothing to do with me'.

"I see their lordships enjoy life." He smiled. "But then I had already got that impression from Lords Legolas, Elladan and Elrohir. As well as what Mithrandir and King Elessar had told me."

"Oh, this is nothing, Lord Faramir, trust me," Penny replied.

"It is true," Faelon added. "They can get far, far worse."

"Well, there is nothing wrong with a playful heart. It does one good to find levity and joyfulness in others' company."

"I think some would call it 'never growing up'," Penny muttered.

Lindir raised an eyebrow. "For someone as young as you, Pen-ii, that is saying something."

"She does have a point, Lindir." Eleniel was laughing. "Or she does in your case, at least."

"Oh, men can be just as bad, Eleniel, I promise you."

Lord Faramir and Faelon exchanged amused looks.

"Oh, yes, Pen-ii?" Faelon was chuckling.

"Though equally, some would argue it is part of any male's charm in some ways," Penny added hurriedly. She restrained herself from pointing out it was also part of any male's ability to drive a woman completely do-lally.

One or two ellith and ladies of Gondor did that for her, though.

In the meantime she took advantage of the laughter and friendly banter to hurry to her room to leave her book there and then come back to join them.

As she did so, she thought of the few men she had known well in her life: obsessed with arsing about and getting drunk or role playing or computer games (or computers) and generally not taking real life terribly seriously if they could at all help it… Heck, she had never even _met_ her father. How was that for shirking responsibility?

She then considered the men she had met since she had landed in this weird situation: strong, brave, honourable, constantly putting their lives at risk for the sake of others.

They could not be more different.

Well, except perhaps for some of the ellyn in their worst moments, but then even they could be serious if they needed to be. She had only had a hint of Lindir in warrior mode, it was true, but even so… And of course he had the weight of grief on him to forget. She could not blame him if he chose to muck around and play the joker at times, and she joined in with him often enough, did she not?

Then she thought of her brother who did nothing but muck about, and who was as irresponsible and irritating as it was possible to be.

For one horrible moment she wondered if she might she actually be missing him...

By the time she had returned Glorfindel and Rhimlath were back in full 'baiting' mode with Rhimlath asking Glorfindel random questions about obscure bits of Sindarin lore and history and Glorfindel responding by asking Rhimlath about details of Gondolin that few but a native of the city would know.

"You'll be asking me what colour drapes you had in your chambers next," Rhimlath was saying with scorn.

"Very well. Battle tactics. I will present you with a hypothetical situation and you tell me what you would consider to be the best formation of your men…"

"I _am_ a seasoned warrior, Glorfindel," Rhimlath said testily.

"Yes, but that does not make you a tactician, Rhimlath."

"I am as skilled with a bow as any in Lothlorien, indeed better than many."

"And with a sword?"

"You have seen me use a sword, Glorfindel."

"Exactly."

"_What are you saying?_" Rhimlath looked furious.

"You should join us, Lord Rhimlath." Faramir interjected, no doubt trying to calm the situation down. "I was on my way to show Lord Glorfindel here the practise areas for sparring."

"Oh, now that is an excellent idea! We could put our respective swordsmanship to the test."

The way Glorfindel beamed made Penny suspect Rhimlath would regret having gone down this route if he accepted the challenge.

If Rhimlath hesitated it was only for a moment.

"But of course, Lord Faramir." He inclined his head haughtily by way of thanks. "I would be most delighted to accept your offer. Frankly I am surprised you have the space for an archery target yard that would be long enough for an elf's needs, but…"

"Oh, no, archery is taught and practised out on the Pelennor for the most part. We cannot have arrows flying through people's windows or into backyards as youngsters first start to learn, can we?" Faramir grinned. "Of course we would be most interested to see the skill of elvish archers at the fete."

"Fete?" This was a new word to Penny. It was quickly explained.

"This coming market day there is likely to be a larger number of stalls and people than usual given word will have spread of our new Queen, as well as the arrival of so many elves. There will be a few festivities and games as well. Some organised by the city, but there will no doubt be others organised by local people. There will be an archery contest, since there always is at such events. Laughable to ones of your skill, no doubt…" He had turned back to Rhimlath who positively preened at the compliment and made no attempt to refute Faramir's assertion. "But it may entertain. Of course, as I say, if some of the best among you would show some of your skill, that would be a treat for us all indeed."

Penny groaned. There would no doubt now be a battle royal amongst them all to determine who were 'the best among them'.

She was surprised, though, when immediately Glorfindel and Rhimlath started listing names off between them, with Lindir throwing in a couple as well. Of course, for all their jibes and bickering, when push came to shove, they had to know such things, Penny reasoned, since in a battle scenario your life or that of your men might depend on giving the right man the right job.

'Which just goes to prove my point,' she mused.

Market day would be in two days time, apparently, and Penny was looking forward to it. Even without the added excitement of the fete she would have looked forward to it. Just to see all the stalls laid out and the wares… Apparently one of the few things that had picked up almost immediately after Sauron had fallen was trade. Opportunists and wheeler-dealers were not slow or shy in realising the people of Minas Tirith, and indeed Gondor as a whole, would be desperate for supplies and especially those things they had long missed or long gone without. Not only that but, with the darkness finally lifted, and for those who had not lost heavily during the War, there was the 'feel-good' factor, a sense of euphoria which meant that some were more tempted than they had been in a long time to hoik out that bag of coins from under the floorboards and go a little wilder than usual.

It also meant prices had sky-rocketed at first, until Aragorn had stepped in and laid down strict guidelines about buying and selling, bartering and haggling, and generally selling things for a fair price or else.

As Faramir, Glorfindel, Rhimlath, Lindir and several others made their way down to the First Circle and the training grounds, Eleniel and Penny followed behind. Penny had yet to see the rest of the city in daylight, and Eleniel had not really explored terribly far herself the previous afternoon. They just intended to wander down to the courtyard behind the main gate and then back up again, which should kill most of the time till lunch.

There were quite a few people staring at them all as they made their way down, not in an unpleasant way, though some could have been a little more discrete or subtle if they had tried. No doubt having seen Legolas or the twins around the city had not sufficiently prepared the inhabitants for a group of elves all bunched together like this. When adults as well as children were pointing and saying 'Oooh, look! Elves!' at the tops of their voices it did make you wince. Elves were still a novelty, it seemed, and worth staring at (or in some cases, positively gawping). Of course, Lord Faramir was well known and well loved, and many came out to greet him. Penny was impressed by how many people he knew by name, asking after their children or spouses by name as well, quite often.

'Quite the statesman,' Penny mused. She could just imagine him kissing babies and shaking palms, though in his case she suspected it would be absolutely genuine and sincerely meant. He seemed to be the sort.

The further down into the city they went, the more Eleniel and Penny found themselves getting further and further behind the ellyn. They were not bothered. They stopped and chatted to whoever stopped to speak to them, some managing a little fractured Sindarin, but mostly it was Eleniel's Westron that came into play for communication. A few locals laughingly noted that her Westron 'sounded nearly as strange as that spoken in Rohan or by them there Periannath'.

Penny wondered what their reaction would be to Rhimlath if he ever tried out his Westron on them.

She dreaded to think.

It was quite something to see the city in daylight. Penny felt strangely at home. Surrounded by bricks and mortar and stone, paved road under her feet, she had a grin on her face all the way down.

Until they reached the Second Level, that is.

The damage she had seen in the darkened gloom of that first night was glaringly apparent in the bright summer sun.

Eleniel and Penny slowed, taking in the damage. As they did so, local residents, mainly women, often drying or cleaning their hands on their aprons, came out to recount tales of woe or derring-do involved in whatever pile of rubble they were currently staring at.

And it only got worse as they ventured into the First Circle.

"Lost five of my neighbours in that fire… Terrible it was…"

"She's never been the same since, you know. She's gone to stay with her mother down in Lossanarch, poor woman. But then, what do you expect? Lost all three sons and her husband, but it was finding her husband's head in the street that really did it. She really should have left with the wains before the siege began like I did, but she insisted on being here to help with the wounded. She wouldn't leave them, you see…"

"Oh, you should have seen him!" (This from a boy not much older than fourteen or so) "He was dashing in and out of the place, pulling us all from it, and then shouted at us so loud for not having gone up to the Fourth Circle like he'd told us! I got this burn," he added proudly, showing a rather large and horrendous scar on his forearm. "He rescued my dog, too!" And a rather scruffy mongrel standing next to him barked and wagged its tail as if he knew he was being talked about.

The worst were probably the few times they walked past a house that was all shuttered up or they would pause in front of a pile of stone and burnt timbers and no one came out to tell them what had happened. Of course Penny well knew that several of these houses had become deserted even before the War, but it did not help to dispel the illusion.

Eventually they started back up the hill once more. Both of them were quiet and a little subdued, though doing their best to respond cheerfully enough to the smiles and greetings from the residents. Penny was mulling over what would be best – to come back as often as possible so as to get used to it, or avoid it as much as possible since she really found it very distressing. More than once Eleniel, without a word, had taken her hand and given it a reassuring squeeze.

As they passed through the gate into the Second Circle, a space on their left where a house used to be, Eleniel whispered, 'It's not your fault' into Penny's ear.

Penny wheeled round to stare at her in surprise.

"You said you had had some foresight of the War. So did many of us, Pen-ii. When you see the destruction here, it is hard not to feel… not to wonder if…" Eleniel hung her head.

Penny said nothing but just stepped up to her and put her arms around her. They stayed like that for a moment, hugging each other in silence, and when they finally pulled apart, Penny could see Eleniel had tears in her eyes mirroring her own.

They slowly made their way back up to the Seventh Circle. However, any melancholy was quickly dispelled thanks to the children skipping along beside them asking them a hundred and one questions about all things elvish. As a final treat, just as they were leaving the Sixth Circle a girl came hurrying out of her house carrying a dish.

"My mother asked me to give you some of these. Please, take some."

On the dish were a few freshly baked, small white cakes.

Penny positively beamed.

They took one each and thanked her and told her to thank her mother also. Much to Penny's delight, they proved to be quite delicious.

Life in Minas Tirith would quickly settle into a routine: breakfast with the hobbits (or Frodo at the very least) during which time she was tested on her vocabulary by Frodo, followed by Westron lessons with Erestor. Much as had happened in Rivendell, anyone who was nearby joined in during breakfast, even Rhimlath on occasion (though after he had been corrected once or twice by both Sam and Pippin in quick succession he was noticeably absent from future breakfasts).

The rest of the day would then be spent in various ways.

For the first few days the elves made a conscious effort to walk throughout Minas Tirith, stopping wherever people accosted them, walking into homes where invited, talking, singing and generally making their presence felt. Many were in fact wandering down the levels to head out into the Pelennor to assess the damage done and advise on how best to propagate and restore the damaged land and plants. Galadriel and the Galadrhim in particular were working hard in this regard, often riding out to the far reaches of the Pelennor which Gondorian nobles accompanying them.

The Dunedain had for some weeks already been making themselves useful, helping both the residents of Minas Tirith and those on the Pelennor to rebuild or clear rubble and detritus. Fairly soon the elves realised they could lend much needed manpower in this regard also and thus, much to Dúrion's consternation ("But Lord Faramir, they are our guests… nobles… They can't!"), were soon to be found at various points in the city or on the Pelennor getting dirty and sweaty (though never bare-chested much to Dúrion's relief, though the ladies of Gondor were bitterly disappointed).

Equally, however, there was also much wandering about and letting the hours slip idly past. Those amongst the elves who were craftsmen in particular fields sought out their Gondorian counterparts, both to assess their workmanship, see what styles or skills were the fashion and take note or even pass on their expertise (if wanted or appreciated). There were even a few things for which Gondor was rightly famous: its glassware, for example. A skill which the elves were capable of but few indulged in these days.

After lunch, therefore, just about everyone Penny knew would be indulging in one or more of the above for the rest of the afternoon.

However, she had a rather pressing engagement with Erestor and a librarian.

And she was looking forward to it.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Now, I admit it's a case of the 'pot calling the kettle black' perhaps (given most of us who hang out in online fanfiction can admit to having been obsessed by computers, computer games and/or role playing at some point in our lives), but I just wanted to clarify that those examples directly refer back to Penny's ex-boyfriends/love interests: namely the infamous Brian (the computer nerd) and the guy referred to way back when in Chapter Two of Don't Panic – the guy who did historical re-enactments. So please no shouting about 'Hey, I'm obsessed by that and I'm female.' ;P And while I know many men can be terribly adult and serious when they want to be, I think most would also admit to carrying their 'inner little boy' around with them. As NL, my canon beta (and a man), put it once: men don't grow up until around the age of seventy and then they die of boredom a week later. /grin/

As ever, thank you to all who take the time to read this thing, let alone take extra time out to leave a comment or some con crit – it is much appreciated.

I feel very guilty about not being able to reply properly (i.e. more than a mere 'thank you') to every review I get but time constraints and the sheer number of reviews means it is not feasible, not only that but on some sites there is no reply facility or else, like here, it is both new and one I am uncomfortable using. However, often there are questions which really warrant an answer (other than those which are obviously rhetorical or which would involve spoilers if I answered). You can always put a question to me on the forum, or track me down via my LJ (link is in my profile), since I really do enjoy interacting with fellow fanfic bods and Tolkien nuts and hearing your views. Please don't be shy! I am also kicking myself for not thinking of this before (apologies) but I will try and answer questions left in reviews on the forum (which you find via my user profile page). I will also go back through the reviews, chapter by chapter, if I can.


	29. A Cold Dish

As ever, my sincere thanks to all who take the time to read this and especially to those who review. I hope you are still enjoying it. I love reading all your comments and responses, and all con crit is gratefully received. If I haven't got round to editing old chapters yet it is down to time constraints and being a bear of little brain, but I will, I promise! So, please keep any corrections coming my way. Thanks. :)

* * *

**Chapter 29** – _"A Cold Dish"_

Penny was late for her meeting with Erestor, but then the chimes from the bell on the Tower of Ecthelion confused the heck out of her, so it was perhaps to be expected.

The hours were counted from sunrise, thus seven chimes was seven hours since sunup and not 'seven o'clock' as Penny thought of it. She had made a mental note to stop counting the chimes by the end of her first full day in Minas Tirith since it involved too much effort to try and work out what the time probably would be in her own terms. Thus, when she had finished lunch she had no clue if it was coming up to the sixth, seventh or even the eight hour.

Actually, truth be told, she had been so involved with the chatter around her as she had finished eating that she had not even heard the hour sounded, much less remembered to count it out.

The reason for this was simple enough.

Some time after Eleniel and Penny had sat down for lunch, the group from the sparring areas had joined them, looking freshly groomed and in clean tunics. The subsequent conversation had started as inconsequential, but soon enough it had changed…

"Glorfindel, would you kindly _stop_ smirking at me. I slipped, I tell you!"

"Of course you did, Rhimlath."

Sniggering broke out from around him, and even Faramir coughed into his cup.

"Ah, yes, how did you find the sparring area?" Arvain had finished his meal and was just enjoying the last of his wine.

"Excellent," Lindir replied. "A little full of gangly persons underfoot, perhaps, but…"

There was a roar of laughter and Rhimlath turned puce.

"I HAD understood it to be a standard bout of practice moves," he spluttered furiously, "not an opportunity to lash out like some deranged maniac!" He glared at Glorfindel as he spoke.

"Always be prepared, Rhimlath," Glorfindel retorted as if he were teaching some elfling the very basics of swordplay. "I have to say if that is how you respond to an orc attack, then…"

"Oh, so you admit you behaved no better than an orc?"

More spluttering, choking and stifled laughter from the warriors at the table at that.

"WHY YOU…!"

"Now, now," Lindir intervened. "Glorfindel simply caught you offguard, Rhimlath. It could happen to the best of us."

"It could?"

"I was being generous, Glorfindel."

"Ah, of course."

Rhimlath looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.

"I am glad this is so amusing to you, Lindir."

"It is, actually, yes."

"I would like to see how Glorfindel fares with a bow against me."

Glorfindel made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"I do not need to accept such a challenge, Rhimlath, I have already made my point…"

"I _SLIPPED!_"

"Well, if it makes no difference to you either way, Glorfindel, why not accept his challenge?" Celebdor reasoned with a faint smirk on his face. "What is the worst that could happen?"

"I would not wish to humiliate Rhimlath twice in close succession, Celebdor."

"Ah, now, Lord Glorfindel, I do think that may be over-stating it a little…" Faramir interjected politely, clearly feeling Rhimlath was being hard done by.

Rhimlath, however, just laughed.

"I think you forget I am a Galadhrim, Glorfindel. We fight from the trees – we are skilled archers."

"Do you think I have had no time to learn how to draw a bow in all my years, Rhimlath?"

"Ah, but did you learn from amongst the best? From those who themselves learnt from Beleg Cuthalion himself?"

Glorfindel muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, Glorfindel?" Penny was enjoying this immensely.

"I believe he said that Beleg was not the only archer in Beleriand," Lindir said.

Round about him everyone winced, even the Dunedain, but Lindir was smiling sweetly at Rhimlath as he spoke as if thoroughly looking forward to the inevitable explosion that would erupt as a consequence.

And sure enough, as if on cue…

So, perhaps it was understandable that, in the middle of Rhimlath telling Glorfindel in no uncertain terms what he thought of him and Glorfindel responding that 'just for that he _would_ accept his challenge and show him just how well a seasoned Noldo could wield a bow', Penny forgot the time.

It was Halladan, sitting opposite her, who had been the one to gently point out that the seventh hour had already sounded.

"Were you not meant to be meeting Erestor?"

He had chuckled and grinned as Penny gasped, thanked him and then dashed off in a mad panic.

"Forgive me, Erestor," she said, panting a little as she jogged up to him. "I had not realised the time."

"Oh, the hour is not long past." Erestor smiled, carefully closed the book he was reading and rose from the small bench. "Shall we?"

He led her off down to the Sixth Circle, then turning left towards the gate to the Fifth, and eventually up a set of steps to a small door set into the side of a very large building. The door opened into a small, dark vestibule with panelled walls and a wooden floor. There was a long, low bench along one wall and a wooden staircase that spiralled upwards.

"This way."

Penny followed him up the staircase and then into a corridor, long and also wood panelled and dimly lit. All down one side were doors to various small rooms, and as they walked down it, Penny glanced into the few that were empty and had their doors ajar. In contrast to the corridor, these rooms had long, high windows to let in a lot of light. She could see benches and lecterns, inks and quills ranged ready, and some had huge and very ancient tomes left open on stands in front of the lecterns waiting to be copied.

"Ah, Lord Erestor!"

A man had stepped out into the corridor from a room near the far end and, on looking up and seeing them, came up to meet them. He was greying, had a slight stoop to his back, and small eyes that shone with warmth and sharp intelligence.

"I got your message and had wondered if you might arrive shortly. I was on my way down to the front door to await you. I take it this is your student with you, yes? A pleasure to meet… Oh."

He had stepped towards Penny but now halted, taken aback as he realised she was not only female but human. He recovered himself well and smiled thinly, though not unkindly, inclining his head.

"Well met, my dear. I had no idea… I mean, I had assumed that… But no matter, no matter." He threw one last curious glance at Penny as he turned back to Erestor.

"Lady Pen-ii has a great interest in history and learning, and particularly in the history of Gondor and Minas Tirith, and all the peoples related to it. I thought who better than your good self, Master Istdor, to answer all her questions."

The librarian's face lit up.

"Oh, but of course, Lord Erestor! I would be delighted. Come this way, Lady Pen-ii was it? Yes, yes, please, do follow me."

"I will leave you in Istdor's capable hands," Erestor said as he turned to go.

Istdor was already bustling off down the corridor.

"Oh, ah, right. You are not…?"

"No, no, I have matters I need to attend to. Istdor will take care of you. Do not let him bore you – if you feel you have had enough just say so."

Penny wondered if that was some sort of warning. Just what had she let herself in for?

Istdor had finally realised Penny was not glued to his side and had turned back to them, an expectant and slightly impatient look on his face.

"Go," Erestor gestured down the corridor, a reassuring look on his face. "Trust me, you will learn much from him that I know you will find endlessly fascinating." He was grinning.

"Thank you." Penny steeled her resolve, smiled at Istdor and headed off down the corridor towards him. The moment he saw she was finally moving, he did not wait but disappeared round a corner. Penny sped up to catch up, leaving Erestor watching and chuckling slightly before he turned to leave back the way they had just come.

Istdor walked fast, and talked incessantly. He asked many questions of Penny at first, some of which she was able to answer, but others were so quickly superseded by others that she had no chance at all. It seemed something of her story had preceded her. Istdor had immediately realised she 'must be the woman who had travelled south with the elves,' apparently, and in so saying made Penny realise just how much she stood out to the locals.

She had little chance to dwell on it, though, since Istdor had moved on from that to asking her about Erestor and his tuition. He seemed impressed, if clearly slightly surprised, that a mortal female should be learning or interested in doing so.

"Well, your Sindarin is most impressive, I must say. A slight elvish accent to it, mark you, but that is to be expected, and given it is an elvish language by origin, that is no bad thing, no bad thing at all. Gives it a certain class and quality, I think, do you not agree?"

Meanwhile he was leading her down a large staircase, talking all the while, explaining when the library had been built, which families had donated what moneys towards the financing of it, and what sort of books it contained.

"We are quite proud of our collection."

And Penny did not blame him in the least. Books on all sorts of subjects from all sorts of cultures had been collected over centuries, then painstakingly translated into Sindarin or Westron and were kept housed in various rooms and vaults within the library building.

"This is the larger reading room," he said at last, opening a door into a small hall with tall windows high up in the far wall. A row of shelves lined with thick, aged tomes were set at right angles all along one wall and the rest of the room was filled with benches at long low tables and a few individual desks and chairs. There were only two people reading, but they were both ellyn, Penny noted.

"I see some of my companions are taking advantage of your lore."

"Ah yes." Istdor laughed as he replied. "Yes, yes, we have already had much interest in what books we have here. Of course, I do not doubt that with memories as long as theirs they can better remember what we have here in black and white…"

Something in his tone made Penny look at him closely. Had someone ruffled his feathers?

As he led her down the hall towards the far end, they passed by an elf Penny recognised as a Galadhrim.

"Ah, Istdor, I wanted to have a word with you about this History of Doriath. I think you will find there are a few errors in regard to some of the blade names borne by the guards of the Western Marches…"

"Indeed? How gratifying. Please do make a note, and I shall be back presently to learn all you can correct me on."

Penny did everything she could to suppress the smirk. She suddenly felt terribly sorry for Istdor. They must be driving him crazy. She wondered if Rhimlath had found out about this place yet. She also wondered what sort of state Istdor would be in after two weeks of that kind of 'helpful criticism.'

"It is a great benefit having such founts of knowledge here among us," Istdor muttered conspiratorially to Penny, "but I do fear they will leave us with much work to be done once they have left."

"They are only trying to be helpful, I am sure," Penny replied diplomatically.

"Oh, indeed, indeed! Yes, yes, quite, quite. I am not complaining, no, no, not by any means. It is fascinating to meet so many elves in the flesh, truly it is: all that history and knowledge… I am quite taken by them all, I must admit, and I would learn as much as I can from them whilst they are here."

Which admission kick-started him into a million and one questions once more, this time about her impressions of the elves, of Imladris, of Lothlorien and anything else Istdor could think of that he wanted to know about.

Eventually he reached a section of bookshelves and explained these were a few basic histories of Gondor.

"You are welcome to read through any you wish. They are all in Sindarin, so you should have no problems with the language. It may be there will be a few grammatical differences perhaps between our usage and the purer form used by the elves, but not enough that it will cause you problems, I should have thought. Of course, it is a subject dear to my own heart, so I will be happy to answer any questions you may have, but for now, if you will excuse me, I must just go and see what 'errors' are apparently in that book on Doriath…"

And he hurried back up the room to the waiting ellon.

Penny was in her element. The Tolkien-nerd in her was busy jumping up and down with wild abandon. She was having great difficulty suppressing a shit-eating grin. She would have to hug Erestor when she next saw him, she decided.

She picked out the first tome she came across and, taking it to the table and opening it at random, she found herself in the middle of the detailed life story of King Tarannon, husband of the infamous Queen Beruthial.

"Fantastic!" she breathed.

She did not get much opportunity to read, though, since Istdor was back in an hour, offering to give her a guided tour of the rest of the library.

"Or all of it that is generally open to most students of lore, at least."

Penny wondered what would be completely off-limits, but did not get a chance to ask as Istdor carried on talking.

"Very delicate and ancient texts or parchments are stored elsewhere, as well as some that do not bear regular use."

'Do not bear regular use'? What did that mean? There was something heavily implied in that phrase but, for the first time since she had met him, Istdor seemed tight lipped. Penny made a mental note to try and make discreet inquiries of Gandalf, though she now had visions of books in Black Speech or tomes full of pornographic etchings squirreled away somewhere. Either possibility seemed a tad alarming, frankly.

Istdor's tour was nothing if not comprehensive. He showed her the copying rooms and explained the process by which old books were carefully copied out, page by page, some with astonishingly beautiful illustrations. He showed her the smaller workrooms on the ground floor where the smell of leather and glue lay heavy in the air as books were rebound or newly copied books bound for the first time. He even introduced her to one or two of the scribes hard at their work with ink-stained fingers and a similarly bookish, intelligent look about the eyes as Istdor's. One had a fairly rudimentary set of 'pince-nez' which Penny could not help but stare at – it was the first time she had seen anything resembling a pair of glasses since she had arrived in Middle-earth.

"Oh, these are a most intriguing invention," Istdor was explaining, presuming she was staring because, being a strange foreigner, she could not have any idea what they were, "the glass… you see the glass here, how it is shaped and rounded? Well, the glass, when you place it against the eye helps someone with poor sight to see better."

"Yes, we have things like this in my society."

"Oh. Do you?" Istdor seemed really quite deflated to hear this.

"But not as beautiful as these," Penny added quickly, noting the silver frame and the delicate silver chain attached to them.

Istdor beamed.

As the tour continued, Istdor seemed equally pleased with Penny's genuine interest in everything he was telling her. Her many questions were answered with great enthusiasm and a bewildering amount of detail.

He was like a human Rhimlath.

"Ah, but I must be boring you, my dear."

"Not at all. But do you not have work to do? Important cataloguing or copying to oversee or attend to?"

"Well, yes… but I am glad to have been able to teach a little of our culture and history to one so eager to learn. It is something of a novelty, especially given you are a woman."

Penny bit her tongue.

"Have you seen the rest of the city yet? You seem so interested in Gondor's past that really you need to have someone who can explain in detail the significance of various districts, the way certain areas are constructed and the like."

Penny beamed. "Are you offering to show me round the city, Master Istdor? I would be honoured! Truly!"

"Oh, well, ah, now…" Istdor, a man nearly old enough to be Penny's grandfather, seemed slightly embarrassed at such an effusive response. "I am glad that it would interest you."

"Very much! I do not want to take up your precious time, though."

"Oh, no, no, think nothing of it." Indeed, as he had said, Istdor seemed only too happy to have a willing audience.

He left her back in the reading room. There she immersed herself in the details of Kings and Queens of yore once more until a gentle voice roused her from reading about the Battle of the Dagorlad from the Gondorian point of view. It was Istdor pointing out that it would soon be time for supper.

"May I walk you up to the Seventh Circle, Lady Pen-ii?"

She thanked him, put her book back on the shelf where she had found it (little leather markers were left in a box at one end of a bookcase for you to place where you had taken the book from while you had it with you at the table), and then dutifully followed him back through the maze of corridors.

As they made their way up the street, Istdor pointed out things of note, explaining heraldic symbols carved above doorframes, what centuries or fashions were denoted in the shapes of windows or the style of brickwork, or else what families of note lived where and what their ancestors had gone down in history doing. Indeed, by the time they reached the courtyard with the White Tree, he was in full flow, so much so that Penny had to cough discreetly and gently take him by the arm since he seemed to have forgotten about supper entirely.

"Oh, ah, yes, of course, of course. Yes, yes, do carry on…"

As they entered the Hall of Feasts Penny paused, scanning the room quickly to see if she could see… Ah, yes. Perfect!

"Master Istdor, there is someone I _must_ introduce you to."

Penny headed over to the far side of the Hall where a small group of elves and Dunedain had just settled themselves at the far end of a table.

"Ah, Pen-ii!" Rhimlath looked up from across the table and spotted her. "Where have you been all afternoon?"

"The library. Erestor took me. It's the most wonderful place!"

The elves smiled approvingly, the Dunedain looked pleasantly surprised and the few Gondorians within earshot looked astonished or amused. Istdor hovered next to Penny, smiling at the Dunedain he already knew.

"Do, please, take a seat, Master Istdor. You are most welcome." Halladan, seated to Rhimlath's left, smiled and gestured to the space opposite him between Lindir and Celebdor.

Penny seated herself on the other side of Lindir and introduced Istdor to those he did not already know as she did so.

"And this, Master Istdor," she said at last, "is Lord Rhimlath. I think the two of you will get along famously. Lord Rhimlath is a great lover of lore and history, so you will learn much from him, especially regarding Lothlorien which is where he hails from." Istdor seemed very pleased to hear this and smiled broadly at Rhimlath as Penny continued. "Master Istdor is in charge of the library here in Minas Tirith, Rhimlath. He has extensive knowledge of Gondorian history as well as access to an extraordinary number of books from far and wide and collected over what even you would call 'a long period of time.'"

Rhimlath looked nearly as pleased to meet Istdor as Istdor did to meet him. Indeed, almost immediately the two fell into a deep conversation asking umpteen questions of the other. Fairly soon, however, it settled itself into mostly a sort of impromptu lecture by Rhimlath to a one-person audience, with Istdor barely touching his food as he listened with rapt attention, hanging off Rhimlath's every word. Very occasionally Istdor would respond with a very lengthy and tedious question, or pick up a point Rhimlath had made about Lothlorien history and compare to some equally obscure and esoteric aspect of Gondorian culture. The pair seemed to be absolutely in their element and as happy as Larry.

Penny felt quite pleased with herself.

Lindir, sitting opposite one and next to the other, seemed less impressed, however. Indeed, he seemed to be eating as fast as possible so as to make a bid for freedom at the earliest opportunity. Once done, he refused a top-up of wine and pushed his plate forward, making as if to rise from his seat with a muttered apology.

"Oh, are you leaving?"

"Er, yes, Pen-ii, there is something… I have to… I am sure that Erestor mentioned that…"

"Oh, but you must not leave just yet. Master Istdor? Forgive me interrupting, Rhimlath, but I feel Master Istdor would be most interested to learn who he is sitting next to."

Lindir froze, looking at Penny in horror.

"Oh, but of course! Yes, indeed, how remiss of us, Pen-ii." Penny's prompt had been all the encouragement Rhimlath needed. "Lindir is amongst the most famous writers of epic ballads and songs still resident here in Middle-earth, Istdor. I feel sure you will find him more than willing to discuss his pieces and the detailed history upon which they are based. Not only that but as a resident of Imladris, he will be able to give you some idea of life there which is, of course, a little different to Lothlorien."

"A writer of songs!" Istdor turned to Lindir, beaming broadly. "Oh, but this is too wonderful! Over many years I have been trying to make a collection of great epic ballads, as I was telling Lady Pen-ii earlier…"

Lindir flashed Penny a furious glance. She adopted her best innocent expression and smiled brightly back at him.

"…it may well be I have collected one or two of yours, Lord Lindir, without even realising it! Ah, what a thrill it would be if that were the case, would you not agree? I absolutely insist you let me learn as much from you as possible while you are here. I must write down as many of them as you care to recite so that they may be recorded for future generations of Gondorians to enjoy…"

"Oh, I am sure Lindir would thoroughly enjoy that," Rhimlath answered for his friend, clearly oblivious to the fact that Lindir would have thoroughly enjoyed anything but. "He is a dear friend of mine, and I am sure he would not mind me saying this, but some of his ballads on the great battles in the north, against the Witchking and the like, are sung even in Valinor itself."

Istdor's eyes opened wide in admiration. "Oh," he breathed quietly, looking at Lindir in near reverence. "You really must allow me to copy those down, my lord…."

"But of course," Lindir replied, through gritted teeth, forcing himself to smile politely. "I would be delighted."

"Splendid, splendid!" Rhimlath seemed terribly pleased that Lindir was so willing to humour his new friend. "We should make a start right away. There is much to be done, but in the meantime, why not tell Istdor here a little of life in Imladris?"

"I will leave you, if you do not mind," Penny said, rising from her seat. Lindir turned in his seat.

"No, no, please do stay," he urged, his eyes narrowed. "After all, it was you who introduced us to-"

"I am afraid I cannot, Lindir," Penny replied as quick as flash, smiling serenely. "I said I would seek Lady Meresel out after supper, and I do believe I have just seen her making her way out into the courtyard. Besides, Istdor has had enough of my company for one day, I am sure. Thank you, Master Istdor, for today. I shall look forward to my tour of the city. In fact, why don't you join us, Lindir?"

Lindir stared at her in shock before wheeling in his seat to splutter at Istdor.

"Well, I, er…"

"Oh, yes, you must, Lord Lindir. I think you will find it particularly interesting. You also, Lord Rhimlath."

"But of course," Rhimlath replied. "Lindir and I accept your offer gladly."

Lindir blinked, looking not unlike a rabbit caught in headlights, while Penny left the table with an unmistakable smirk on her face.

Understandably enough, perhaps, no one else stayed at the table either to keep Lindir company and listen to any more of Istdor and Rhimlath outdoing each other in academic verbosity. Poor Lindir was stuck there, marooned and fuming, thanks to Penny counting on his innate good manners and affability.

She glanced back at the three to see Istdor giving chapter and verse about who knew what.

She sniggered.

"Pen-ii?" Celebdor shot her a curious glance.

"I said I would get him back for Lothlorien, let alone the umpteen other occasions he's caught me out, did I not?"

Halladan, Arvain and Celebdor looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

As they stepped outside, they found that dusk was drawing in but it was still warm, though there was a pleasant breeze this high up in the city that meant it was not uncomfortably so. Penny spotted Eleniel, Meresel and Mireth and went off to join them, leaving the three males still chuckling and sniggering at the top of the steps.

"Ah, I have to say Lindir has only himself to blame," Celebdor said, laughingly. "She has warned him for many weeks now."

"Well, from what Father told us she was never a woman to be under-estimated in that respect. 'Strong-willed', I think was his description."

"That was one of the more polite terms, brother," Arvain sniggered.

"Ah, well, yes…" Halladan looked a little embarrassed at admitting such a thing in front of Celebdor.

"Oh, I would not fear," Celebdor said, slapping Halladan on the back. "Your father said as much to us back in Imladris at the time. Would have said it to her face more than once, I do not doubt, if she had understood him."

"Oh, I believe he did on several occasions during their journey alone together," Halladan replied, now laughing in his turn.

"_Where _is she?"

The three turned to see Lindir behind him, looking if not furious, then certainly not his usual, happy-go-lucky self.

"Now, Lindir, you have to admit she has given you fair warning that she would..."

"I just wish to congratulate the little minx on a hand well played, Celebdor." Then he spotted her. "Ah, Pen-ii." He started off down the steps towards her. "No, do not try and hide behind Mireth… I want to have a word with you…!"

"There you are, Lindir! Where are you rushing off to? No, no, this way. Istdor wants to introduce us to some of his students, including one who shares his love of ballads. They may know some you would be interested in hearing…"

Rhimlath dragged him back inside.

"Tell her I will find her later and give her a piece of my mind," Lindir muttered to Celebdor as he left.

"I would start running now if I were you," Celebdor shouted down to Penny, grinning hugely.

Penny then had to explain what had occurred at Eleniel's insistence. She and Mireth were giggling hysterically, especially after Meresel said she felt sorry for Lindir.

"Well, if he is anything like Rhimlath…" Eleniel began.

"Oh, he is," Penny interrupted, "He is like a mortal version."

Mireth's eyes opened wide in horror before she collapsed into hysterics. "Ai, poor Lindir!"

"Be fair, Mireth," Penny replied. "You enjoyed Rhimlath's tours of Lothlorien as much as I did. And I feel sure Istdor's tours of Minas Tirith will be just as fascinating."

"Yes, that is a fair point," Mireth conceded. "I still do not think Lindir will appreciate it."

"Tough," Penny replied. They started laughing again.

"I have to say I do think it rather unkind to use Master Istdor in such a way for some personal joke." This was said in Westron.

"That is not what happened, Sidhwen, and you know it."

"Do I? Forgive me, Meresel, if I have misunderstood. After all my Sindarin is not fluent, as you know. It is a shame we cannot converse in Westron, but then Lady Pen-ii's Westron is limited, of course."

"Why don't you go and see if the minstrels plan on playing any dances," Meresel suggested, her tone kind and friendly. "Lord Arvain looks most bored there on top of the stairs. I am sure if you asked him nicely, he would have a turn or two with you on the floor."

Sidhwen tried to look as if she did not realise that Meresel was just trying to get rid of her.

"Do you plan on going back to the library?" she asked Penny, still speaking in Westron quite deliberately. Meresel translated.

"Oh, yes. Library very good."

Sidhwen raised an eyebrow. However, several other ladies-in-waiting were murmuring things about perhaps paying a visit or badgering their brothers to lend them some books. Sidhwen, hearing such comments, made a noise expressing both annoyance and disgust and finally took up Meresel's suggestion. She took several of her friends with her, collecting Arvain en route, as she headed back into the Hall.

Meresel, Penny was pleased to learn, turned out to be a charming woman. Kindly, warm, witty and quietly spoken. She began explaining to Penny some of the intricacies of courtly life and the characters therein.

"And he got married far too young to a rather unattractive but very nice woman who has a lot of land south of the city, but we all know where his heart truly lay. Alas it was not to be, but it does mean he and the man his true love married have never really seen eye to eye. There was a scandalous incident some years back when they had both had a little too much to drink at a wedding feast and nearly came to blows."

"Oh, yes, I remember that," someone interjected. "It was Lord Boromir who stepped in to separate them, was it not?"

"Yes, indeed." Meresel sighed. "It's their wives I feel sorry for."

For all the bitching and sniping that went on, there was also a clear sense of camaraderie amongst many of the ladies of Gondor. The War had helped, so Penny, Mireth and Eleniel were told. Several women had stayed behind to help in the Houses of Healing, whether as nurses or simply to provide food, provisions or even just company to the wounded and dying.

"Of course, some would not have demeaned themselves to such menial labour," Meresel added, naming no names but clearly with a few in mind. "So it was perhaps no bad thing that those were among the women who had followed Lord Denethor's edict and fled south for safety. No one forced those of us who remained to help, but once we did, it was only right and just that we should all do what little we could, no matter our upbringing or status. I for one was glad to do what I could, whether it was chopping up vegetables for a healthy broth for those invalided, or simply reading out loud to those who were bedridden to help keep their minds off their woes."

She went on to explain briefly that her children had left the city with her mother to stay with relatives near Dol Amroth while her husband had been in the stand in Osgiliath, returning in the terrifying rout led by Faramir.

"I am not sure which would have been worse – to have been far away not knowing how he fared, or to stay as I did and then know full well the horror he faced with every passing minute during the siege."

He had gone on to fight bravely on the Pelennor and in front of the Black Gate, and was one of the few who had survived relatively unscathed… physically at least. He was, though, not quite the same man he had once been, so Meresel confessed quietly - more withdrawn and at times quite sad.

Meresel also introduced Penny to several ladies of the court whom she described as 'good friends'. Several were a fair bit older than she, and one was her mother (a matronly figure with a deceptively haughty expression who Penny took to instantly when she made a passing comment on seeing Sidhwen dragging Arvain around the Hall for a dance along the lines of how she felt sorry for Arvain being 'badgered incessantly by that idiotic girl').

Eleniel had been proved right: Penny did like Meresel, and it seemed it was mutual.

Throughout the evening there was already much talk about the upcoming fete and more than once Sidhwen could be heard declaring loudly to anyone who would listen that for 'a low event for the average commoner it should provide some meagre entertainment,' but most people ignored her.

When Penny told Meresel that Faramir had persuaded the elves to show some of their archery skill, Meresel declared that that would be nearly as entertaining to watch as the wrestling.

"I used to enjoy it as a young girl. Of course now I am a grown woman, and married to a noble at that, it is not wholly appropriate, but my husband's young cousin will no doubt take a turn so I will see that bout at least."

Penny blinked.

"Wrestling?" (She had had to have the word explained to her).

"Do you think some of the ellyn will get involved? I am sure some of the Dunedain might, even if some of our nobles disapprove. The men from the North seem much more at ease with different levels of society which is no bad thing in my book…"

Penny had a very hard time keeping images of Rhimlath or Faelon dressed in nothing but very tight, 'up-to-the-waist,' 50's-style underpants, a pair of lace-up boots and brightly coloured gimp masks out of her head. She had to bite her cheeks to stop a fit of the giggles. She was sure that was certainly NOT the Gondorian idea of a wrestling match. No, it would be serious stuff. For a brief moment she thought of Olympic bouts she had seen and then had image of Rhimlath in an all-in-one lycra bodysuit.

NOT good.

Penny spluttered into her cup of wine, earning a strange look for those round her. She tried covering the laughter with a coughing fit.

* * *

Author's note: Yes, authorial/poetic licence in the 'pince-nez', but I consider they would be terribly basic and not much use if you were very, very short-sighted. Consider, also, that Bilbo has a clock on his mantelpiece – thus some flights of fancy in terms of technical ability is allowed in Middle-earth on occasion (or at least – that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). ;) 

Please also be advised I have reworded the author's note at the end of the last chapter since I think I expressed myself badly - my apologies.


	30. The Madding Crowd

**Chapter 30** – _"The Madding Crowd" _

Lindir managed to catch up with her in the end. Admittedly, it took him most of the evening to do it, what with Istdor attached to him like a limpet or else Penny hurriedly steaming off in the opposite direction if ever she saw him coming, but at last he managed to escape 'the Istdor and Rhimlath double-act' and corner Penny between Gandalf and Arvain.

"You! You are a cunning, tricksy madam!"

"I shall take that as a compliment coming from you, shall I, Lindir?"

"What? No!"

"Ah, yes, I heard you introduced Istdor and Rhimlath, Pen-ii," Gandalf interrupted. "Are you sure that was entirely wise?"

"If I had not, then I am sure Erestor would have done soon enough. Or else the moment Rhimlath found out about the library, he would have gone round there and introduced himself."

"Ah, yes, most probably." Gandalf chuckled into his wine, sharing a grin with Arvain.

"Yes, and now I have to put up with the pair of them prattling at each other about what shape chisels were used to carve the flowers in this hall's roof beams, or exactly how many orcs were at the Dagorlad to the nearest half dozen (about which point there was a good hour long discussion, might I add)…"

He glared at Penny as he said this, making it clear that he had not particularly enjoyed being party to such anal retentiveness.

"And was the matter decided once and for all?" Penny asked serenely. "After all I would assume that Rhimlath, given he fought in that battle, would know…"

"Ah, but you see, some weighty and well-respected tome covered in dust in Istdor's library insists that it was one number, and Rhimlath is equally adamant that it was another. There is a very polite debate still going," he gestured behind him vaguely, "as to the accuracy of mortal and immortal chroniclers."

Penny tried not to laugh. It was not helped by her catching Gandalf's eye, since even though he raised an eyebrow at her, she could see the hint of a smile on his face.

"But such things matter to the historian, Lindir," said Arvain, looking terribly earnest and straight-faced for a moment. "I mean, one thousand orcs or one thousand and one? That is a very serious question. It makes all the difference, you know." He winked at Penny, and they both started laughing.

"It may be a serious question to the historian, Arvain, but Elrond looked less than impressed when Rhimlath grabbed hold of him and dragged him into the conversation just now, though it did at least give me the opportunity to slip away unnoticed. Not only that, but I now have to spend days of my time here recounting every song I have ever written and explain my process in minute detail!"

"Oh, Lindir, I am sure you are actually terribly flattered to have someone of Master Istdor's learning and intelligence showing such an interest in your skill and artistry," Penny protested. "Your songs are rightly famous even amongst the noblest of elves, so what can it hurt for a mortal to show some appreciation of your work?"

Lindir looked suitably mollified by that.

"Besides," she continued, "I did not intend for it to happen, really I did not. My main objective was to introduce Rhimlath to a fellow lover of lore. You just… well, you just happened to be sitting in the middle of it all, and it was too perfect an opportunity to miss because I knew it would annoy you."

She looked at him, trying to suppress a grin.

"I will get you for this," he muttered.

"Ah, now, Lindir," Arvain remonstrated, "from what I understand, Pen-ii was only retaliating for various things you and Celebdor have put her through all the way down."

"Oh, she gives as good as she gets, Arvain, trust me!"

"Does she now?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

"There are limits, Gandalf, I assure you," Penny replied. "I for one would never dye a certain balrog slayer's hair green, for example."

"Quite," Gandalf replied, smooth as you like and ignoring Lindir's spluttered protests of innocence. "Master Istdor is a mine of useful information. Even as a boy he showed great promise with a quick brain and an ability to retain huge amounts of information. Of course his father was a scribe and became Chief Librarian in his time, so it was perhaps to be expected. He is a kindly soul, gentle, but understands more than might at first appear. He does not miss much and is a 'wise old bird,' as they say. Having the likes of these elves around, rifling through his collection and correcting every other sentence in them, will be a sore trial for him, I expect, but he will bear it with much patience and grace, I do not doubt."

"I beg your pardon?" Lindir looked most affronted on his race's behalf. "A sore trial?"

"Indeed," Arvain said, grinning broadly. "Such are the hardships we mortals must bear when in such august company as yours. Elves are noble, tall, have lived many years and they never forget." He paused. "Much like oliphaunts, now I think of it."

"I beg your pardon!" Lindir looked furiously at Arvain as he and Penny collapsed into hysterics.

"Now, now, Arvain," Gandalf chided. He was trying to look severe but completely failing to hide the smirk.

"Well, _I_ like Istdor immensely," Penny interrupted even as Lindir opened his mouth to start ranting at Arvain. "And you have to admit, Lindir, if you can put up with Rhimlath and consider him a good friend, then…"

"True," Lindir admitted. "Master Istdor is nothing if not well-meant and perfectly pleasant."

"Just occasionally long-winded, often absent-minded, and unfailingly obsessed with minutiae," Gandalf finished for him. "But then," he added, glancing knowingly in Penny's direction, "That is not always a bad thing."

His eyes twinkled slightly as he said it, and Penny, though she said nothing, grinned back and agreed with him absolutely.

"That reminds me. Gandalf, what would Master Istdor have been referring to when he spoke about some books in the library that were hidden away and 'did not bear regular use'?"

Gandalf's face became dark.

"Ah, right. Forget I asked. I did wonder if that was one possibility."

"Why? What did you think the other possibilities would be?"

"Er… Oh, look, there is Mireth. Would you excuse me?" Penny hurried off as fast as she could, hoping she was not blushing too furiously.

Behind her, Arvain took one look at Gandalf's and Lindir's astonished expressions and roared with laughter.

The following day was not terribly remarkable, perhaps, but Penny had more than enough to distract her. She made another trip to the library in the morning and found Rhimlath already there, perusing the tomes with a fine tooth comb looking for 'unfortunate errors' that he was only too pleased to point out. He told her with some pride that Istdor had made arrangements for him to sit with a scribe for an hour or so a day so that he could leave his knowledge on Lothlorien's history for future generations of Gondorians to enjoy.

"Of course, it is entirely understandable that he should ask such a thing of me. The few tomes I have looked through regarding Lothlorien here are woefully inadequate, and there is almost no other elf who knows the detailed lore of our people as well as I do."

"Has he asked Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel to share their knowledge of Lothlorien?" Penny asked.

It had been a genuine question but it had the added (if unintentional) bonus of flummoxing Rhimlath completely. He muttered something about 'well, of course, I would not dare to presume… I did not mean to suggest that I… they should not be troubled by mere mortal whims and I am only too happy, in their stead, to um …' and then hurriedly made his way back to the bookshelves with a faintly embarrassed cough.

After lunch, Meresel, accompanied by Eleniel and one or two other ladies of Gondor, showed Penny round the royal apartments (or at least the Queen's royal apartments and those open to the court as a whole). Arwen told Penny she should spend more time with them all.

"Come and practice some of your sewing," she said. "There is often an hour or two in the afternoons when we are all together, talking and gossiping. I am learning much about the city and its people from the ladies at court."

"And about the ladies themselves," Eleniel murmured into Penny's ear.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the company of the hobbits as they recounted some of their adventures to her.

At breakfast that morning she had let slip that she missed her cups of tea. She had had no opportunity since her arrival in the city to make it herself as yet and felt too shy to start ordering servants about and ask for boiling water herself. Frodo, of course, had overheard and with a cry of delight had translated to the other three who eagerly demanded to know if it was true: did she really have some tea with her?

"Yes, of course. Bilba insisted I bring some with me as well as a teapot and strainer."

"Ah, good old Bilba!" Frodo had laughed. "In which case, you must bring some with you when you join us for afternoon tea. We have called it that even though we have had no tea to drink with our cakes and sandwiches. Indeed, I meant to say to you yesterday that you should join us, but I forgot at lunch and then there was no sign of you all afternoon."

So it was she found herself in an antechamber with the hobbits in the mid-afternoon, with the sun streaming in through a large window at one end and making the tiles in the intricately designed floor shine brightly.

Apparently they had at first been offered some sumptuous rooms for this daily ritual at Durion's insistence, but they had been equally adamant that being surrounded by so much gilding, brocade and finery was not conducive to good digestion.

"We are a simple folk," Frodo had apparently told him. "We appreciate the sentiment, Master Durion, truly we do, but a plain room with chairs enough for ourselves and the few as may join us is all that we require."

Even so, Penny suspected this was far from being the plainest room available. No doubt it served as a happy compromise. The walls were plastered and half-panelled with a dark wood. There was a tapestry on one wall and a fireplace opposite. Chairs with padded seats were ranged about, some near the fireplace, and a large table below the tapestry where the trays brought from the kitchens were placed, laden with cakes, fruit, bread, jam, fruit juice and milk. Pippin only managed to join them every other day but they always saved him something from their meal.

The tapestry itself showed a fair maiden wandering through rolling green fields and flower strewn meadows with woods in the distance and cottages in the foreground. Penny wondered if someone had picked this room with this particular scene in it especially since it was probably the nearest thing to a scene from the Shire as could have been found (bar the fact that the cottages were above ground, of course, and the maiden was no hobbit lass).

She had brought the tea, as promised, and soon enough a huge pot of it had been made. The hobbits were savouring their cups of it with happy sighs and contented smiles as if it were a rarefied wine. Merry declared that it was nearly as good a moment as when he and Pippin had come across the Longbottom Leaf floating about in Isengard, and in so saying kick-started the topic of conversation.

It was a very strange sensation for Penny to hear this story she knew so well (and knew from the hobbits' point of view, no less) told from the horse's mouth so to speak. It was wonderful and a little unnerving in many ways, though it was a relief to know that any indication she let slip of prior knowledge of the tale they told would not be considered strange since just about the entire world, his wife and his dog knew the intimate details of their stories by now (aside from the inhabitants of the Shire, that was).

The most unnerving moments came when certain bits of the story were skirted over, or else told by others on someone else's behalf.

Thus Merry and Pippin did not relate what they had gone through at the hands of the uruk-hai, let alone the terror and horror of it, and jumped from Amon Hen to Fangorn quite quickly, though Sam and Frodo both commented on how horrible it must have been and how brave they were to keep their heads and find a way out of it.

Nor did they speak overly long of Boromir's fall. Frodo did not translate Sam's murmured comment of 'And she was rather taken with him too, was she not?' but Penny did wonder at the sad, sympathetic looks all four gave her at that point.

Merry did not speak of the battle on the Pelennor at all, though Pippin did start to explain who Merry had faced up to and what had happened till he caught Frodo giving him a meaningful look, glanced sideways to see Merry was looking at nothing in particular out through the window, and hurriedly changed the subject with a muttered apology.

Mordor too was barely mentioned. The only direct references to what Sam and Frodo had gone through were when Sam murmured something about not having a head for heights and hobbits not being made to ride about on giant birds and then going on to laughingly tell the tale of how he had had to face a spider in his bath tub not too long ago and had found it rather difficult.

"Had to call on Raz here to come to my aid!" He chuckled as he spoke. "'Now then, young Ban,' I said to myself, 'you are being nothing but ridiculous…' which I was being, but then perhaps it was only to be expected in some ways. 'You faced the darkness of Mordor itself and you cannot shoo one tiny spider out of a bath? Shame on you! The Gaffer would think you a right fool and no mistake,' I said."

They all laughed, but it was clear Sam was not letting on that the incident had probably put the wind up him a little – trying to use his usual self-deprecating humour to cover what had probably been quite a distressing moment for him. Frodo also looked a little strained round the eyes as he translated for Penny, as if he too would have been just as alarmed both by such a situation as well as his reaction to it.

"I think I should be scared of spiders in baths if I had been through what you went through," Merry said with some feeling. "And it was not that small a one either from what Raz says."

Raz indicated his palm as if to say it was nearly as big as his hand and Penny grimaced. Pippin laughed.

"Ah, but Pen-ii if you think that was bad, then how about one..."

He spread his arms wide to indicate something horribly, nightmarishly gigantic. Even if she could not follow all the Westron, Penny was left in no mistake as to what he was referring.

"Of course Bilba faced down such things in Eryn Lasgalen," Frodo said quickly, trying to interrupt Pippin. "And Legolas has dealt with them on many an occasion."

"Not as big as…" Pippin started.

"Is there any more tea?" Penny asked. Frodo glanced at her gratefully as Pippin jumped to his feet to take her cup and pour her some.

That night after supper she felt a little subdued, no doubt as a consequence of her tea with the hobbits and having heard them speak of such things. She refused various offers for a dance and went outside instead. She spotted Halladan, as ever sitting by himself, on the steps with a pipe in one hand and a tankard and his stick beside him.

"May I join you?"

"Of course," he replied with an easy smile.

He turned back to gaze out at the night sky once more, pulling gently on his pipe. They said nothing for a few minutes.

"You do not enjoy the company?" Penny gestured with her head, indicating the Hall behind them.

"Oh, it is not that so much, just that I am used to a quieter life and solitude. Such is the Ranger's life. I am not the only Northman out here."

He held the bowl of his pipe and gestured with the stem out at the courtyard. Penny could see several of the Dunedain ranged roundabout. Faelon was among them, chatting quietly to a group of Gondorian nobles.

"It must be difficult for those of you who fought to live life as before."

She was not quite sure how to phrase it and tried to sound as vague as possible, not wanting to seem overly-familiar or prying.

"Not as before, Pen-ii. All has changed now He has fallen. Nothing will be the same and we all have to readjust, but I am glad: it is a great thing that has occurred. A great thing, unlooked for and almost beyond hope, and yet it came to pass."

"I realise, I just meant…"

"I understood what you meant."

There was a finality, a weight given in the way he spoke that told Penny that, as politely as Halladan could, he was making it clear that that was the end of the matter: whatever subject she may or may not be trying to broach was not to be discussed further and was none of her business.

It was a very Halbarad moment, Penny realised, since it was clear he would not be gainsaid on this, or indeed on any matter once he put his mind to it. Halladan really was like his father in some respects.

She wondered if he had truly understood what she had been driving at. Somehow she suspected he did.

"You were quiet at supper."

"Was I? Perhaps I was a little preoccupied. I had tea with the kuduk. They were telling me something of their adventures since they left Imladris."

He looked at her.

"Indeed? That must have been… difficult for you."

"Oh, no more difficult than it was for them to relate in parts," she said, attempting to sound breezy and reassuring, though she was not sure she managed it. "But there were parts that were not related at all," she added, a more serious tone to her voice, "if you understand me."

"I understand you," he replied. He turned back out to contemplate the sky once more and muttered quietly so Penny could not hear him, "Yes, I understand you completely."

They fell into silence once more.

"You should take up Legolas on his offer," Halladan said at last. "Talk about such things with someone who will not be as affected in relating them and also understands your situation."

Penny agreed he was right and promised she would do so. She noted that he did not offer to speak of such things, but then she could hardly blame him, and he had also made it fairly clear such a topic was off-limits.

There was no such opportunity to speak to Legolas immediately, however. Penny was still easily tired and went to bed soon afterwards, and the next day was market day.

Not everyone was hugely interested in the market itself since markets are often much the same no matter where you go, except that the local produce may change. However, there was also to be the fete, of course, and not only that but the fact that many traders would be coming from far and wide on hearing there were a huge number of foreigners (and clearly very rich ones at that, it was assumed) newly arrived in the city meant that there was likely to be more on offer than just various kinds of cheeses, fruits and vegetables and the odd bit of basket-weaving. Thus if only for this week the market was elevated above the status of your ordinary bog-standard one, and even those who already knew the Minas Tirith market well would be wandering down to see what new wares were on display.

The previous evening Penny had shyly asked Faramir if he thought there would still be the same sort of things for sale the following week. She had a few coins the elves at Imladris had given her in exchange for the items of pottery she had decorated that had been taken to be sold, but she wanted to see what there was on offer before actually attempting to spend any money. She had no idea how much the coins she had were worth, very little she suspected, and it may be when it came down to it she would have enough for a couple of apples and no more, but that was not the point.

No, the point was that she was used to being fairly independent. This living on others' hospitality made her feel a little uncomfortable, but at least at Imladris she could chip in and help with the work. Since they had left, however, she had felt a growing… not unease exactly, but a discomfiture that only seemed heightened now she was surrounded by bricks and mortar, stones and paving. That vague sense of familiarity only brought home just how very different her life now was, and it was a very small thing, perhaps, but the idea of buying something herself with her own money was something she was greatly looking forward to.

Hence her question.

She did not want to make a rush decision, especially if her funds were as limited as she suspected they might be, and then regret it. She would prefer to look over what was available and then come back the following week and make a considered choice.

Of course she did not dream of trying to explain all of this to Faramir.

"Oh, I would have thought so. Yes, the fete will mean there will be many people there, but it will be busier than usual for as long as the elves are here among us I suspect. Indeed, it has been busier than it has been in many years for a good few weeks…"

So today would be 'window shopping' in Penny's eyes.

Not that there would be any 'windows', admittedly, but no matter.

Penny, Mireth and Eleniel decided to have breakfast in the hall. Rhimlath and Istdor, who had spent nearly the entire day together yesterday, were already there seated side by side. Rhimlath was explaining he would be most interested if there were any artisans from further afield than just Minas Tirith.

"Oh, almost certainly, my lord Rhimlath. Almost certainly."

"Always interesting to note different styles in even the most basic of accoutrements, I find."

"Oh, indeed, indeed. Yes, yes, quite. I have quite a collection of spoons, you know. You would be amazed at the subtle differences in length of the handle or width of the bowl…"

Pippin was in full flow, explaining matters to Celebdor, as Penny, Mireth and Eleniel sat down.

"…stalls with the most wonderful fruit on them - apples and pears and plums, three different kinds of plums at least last week, as well as fruits native to these climes such as peaches and apricots..."

"Oh, now those 'apricot' fruits are delicious, I must say and no mistake," Sam interrupted. "They had some of those in with the wedding food, Celebdor, so you will remember them, I do not doubt. They dry terribly well too. I will have to take some back to Suza with us, the dried, I mean, and maybe even a couple of the stones, because you never know, I have a nice south-facing bit of wall that might just suit…"

"I have heard they make some particularly good linens here in Gondor," Eleniel began. "I will certainly be looking out for things that may be useful for us in Imladris. Now the War is over, trade will be that much easier…"

"…and oranges and lemons…"

"…need to look out for any silversmiths from Dol Amroth…"

"…spectacular colours of dyes, because they have such different native plant species here. There is a very vibrant blue cloth that comes from the desert lands in Harad…"

The table was buzzing with excitement just about the market alone.

"And what about you, Pen-ii? Anything you are looking forward to casting your eye over?"

"Oh, all of it, Halladan!"

He laughed.

"It is true! I have not been to a market in… well, in a very long time. They give such a good sense of a place, of a people. I have been looking forward to this for days!"

"It is quite something," Legolas admitted. "Such bustle and noise and people everywhere you look. The spice stalls are particularly extraordinary. The colours…!"

"They could still do with some good, basic metalwork to my mind," Gimli grumbled.

"Well, no doubt when you bring some of your fellow dwarves here, you can show them how it should be done," Legolas replied.

It was not entirely clear whether he was being sincere or facetious. Gimli raised his eyebrows at him but Legolas just helped himself to another bread roll and said nothing.

"Pen-ii? When you are ready…"

Penny glanced up to see Erestor, armed with his Westron grammar, standing behind Halladan. She blinked at him.

"You are joking?"

"Not at all."

"But… but the market, the fete…"

"They will still be there in an hour."

"Surely one day will not matter, Erestor."

"Perhaps not, Eleniel, but then again we will only be here in Gondor for a short time. I would prefer not to miss any opportunity."

Penny looked round the table, appealing for help.

"There will be no denying him," Mireth murmured. "Best go. We will wait for you."

"No, no, go ahead. I can catch you up."

"Nonsense," Halladan retorted. "Erestor is right. One hour will not make much difference, and besides the fete itself will not really get going for a few hours yet. Some of us have seen much of what the market has to offer already, so an hour here or there will make little difference."

"Exactly," Legolas agreed. "We will meet you in the courtyard when you are done."

Penny, glowering at Erestor for making her feel like some schoolchild half her own age, thanked the others and headed off for her lesson.

She was still peeved when she came out into the bright sunlight an hour later.

Across the courtyard, near the little alley that led to her lodgings, she could just make out Legolas, Halladan, Mireth, Celebdor, Arvain and Eleniel in a group waiting for her, and she was glad they had waited for her. She had not brought her Westron 'Quenta Silmarillion' to breakfast, and Erestor had not insisted she fetch it for his lesson, so she had no reason to return to her chambers and thus they could set off straight away.

They took their time strolling down through the circles, chatting and laughing as they did so. Even by the time they made it down into the second circle the numbers in the street had noticeably increased, and all of them heading downwards. Already the group had met many other elves and Dunedain, and Merry and Sam could be seen darting in and out of the crowds up ahead somewhere. Somehow being with this large a number of people made it easier for Penny to ignore the obvious signs of war damage, for which she was grateful. It was only the second time she had been here in daylight, after all.

Once in the first circle, the main thoroughfare was alive with locals and visitors alike, many of the former armed either with baskets or servants to carry their purchases. Every now and then a small voice would shout for people to make way and the crowd would part to let a boy pulling a small cart laden with foodstuffs come past them and take his load up to richer, wealthy families in the upper circle or even all the way to the Citadel itself.

Penny, Mireth and Eleniel had soon formed a girlie huddle, with the males sauntering along behind them. There was much staring and pointing by the locals. Even Halladan and Arvain, though familiar faces by now, were worthy of note given they were 'north men, kin to King Elessar and among that band of warriors who had fought so fiercely in the field'. Many shouted out to them by name as they passed by, and several times the brothers stopped to talk to whoever it may be, introducing their friends as they did so.

The market was held in the huge main square in front of the main gates, though it also spilled over into the surrounding streets and out onto the Pelennor a little as well. Hence even before they reached the marketplace proper, there were stalls in the street or sellers with baskets all round them, filled with their produce. In the side streets the local artisans had their shopfronts open and stuffed full with examples of their craft.

Penny was blown away by it all. It was everything she had hoped, and more.

There were fruit merchants, farmer's wives with umpteen kinds of vegetables, live animals of various sorts in baskets and boxes, penned or newly killed and being busily plucked at someone's request (and they would be charged extra to take the feathers away with them). There was a man with baskets of apples here, a woman with three wicker boxes of chickens piled high there. Nearby there was another woman selling numerous stoppered pots of honey on a small trestle table along with boxes of candles and blocks of wax. Next to her a swarthy looking youth with half a dozen geese penned into one corner was taking money for them one by one hand over fist, and someone who was likely as not his mother was sat on a stool selling goose eggs from a large basket at her feet.

It went on and on.

Away from the best spots in the markets (which were all taken by locals and regulars, with the most prominent pitches reserved for the highest bidders) were some of those traders from further away. Here were found fishmongers with great boxes of dried and salted fish and pots of that infamous fish paste Penny had learnt about at the wedding; traders from Dol Amroth or further south who had fruits and wares not often seen before the end of the War, such as dates and fragrant incense; other traders had brought spices with them and great sacks of the stuff lay open round them, little wooden measuring scoops in each one, and the smells as you passed by, let alone the colours, were extraordinary.

There were cheeses, butter shaped into pats with designs in the top, sausages both dry-cured and fresh for cooking which you could buy by the yard if you wanted. Shoes were mended; buttons were sold that were made from knotted leather, carved bone, wood or mother-of-pearl; and if you did not have enough coin for whatever it was you wanted, you could trade or barter (or try).

Then there were the leather workers (who would buy skins as well as sell them along with their finished bags and water sacs), the basket weavers with their stacks of trugs and baskets of every conceivable shape and size, the carpenters with rough spoons and bowls, brooms and tool handles, the silver-smiths, the potters and glass blowers.

Most of these were to be found in their little workshops in the side streets – nothing more than large rooms with one side open where you could watch them work and see piles of finished items around them – but several from further afield had trekked in by cart or donkey with a few small items to sell to the 'new rich folk in town' and were in the main market square or else forced out by the numbers of traders onto the edge of the Pelennor itself.

The place was buzzing, and the morning fairly flew by.

Eleniel found two different sellers of linens and cloths, and was much impressed by what she saw. The fine, yet light cloth that was distinctively southern would be delightfully cool in the height of summer and Eleniel ordered for several bolts to be sent up to the Citadel for Arwen's assessment. She also found some dyed in the electric blue of the desert nomads – it was every bit as astonishing as she had described, and even Penny could not quite believe it was a natural dye (though it could, of course, be nothing else). A bolt of that was sent up to the Citadel as well because even if Arwen did not like it Eleniel said she would take it back to Imladris with her.

"Covered in silver, gold and white embroidery, with gems and pearls… Ah, it would look exquisite!"

Penny did not doubt it would.

They soon met up with others, since just about everyone was taking a look at the astonishing array of goods for sale. Lindir joined them, having shaken off Istdor and Rhimlath who were busy comparing notes over bowl rims and how they were indicative of cultural expression over the centuries. Mireth and Celebdor wandered off together to admire the glasswork, for which Gondor, and Minas Tirith in particular, was well-known.

Then Lindir wanted Eleniel's advice regarding some material he had spotted that he thought would make a fair tunic, Legolas had headed off back up to the Citadel to fetch his bow for the archery competition later and so for a little while Penny was left alone in the company of the brothers. As they wandered past the baskets and tables of fruit, it was clear there was much that seemed familiar to Penny – things she recognised that the others had either never seen before they had come to Gondor or else would not grow well in the colder northern climate.

"Ooh, limes!" Penny exclaimed in English. Arvain looked slightly mystified.

"Do you mean those green fruits that look a little like small lemons?"

"They are similar to lemons. Same family, but not quite the same. Very different flavour. And we call those ones 'peaches' in my tongue, and 'apricots' and… oh, 'avocadoes'! I love those! And how many different kinds of melon?" She gasped. "'Cantaloupe'! It must be!"

Halladan blinked at her. "You know all these fruits? They have them where you come from?"

"There… are a lot of traders where I come from. We get fruit from all over the place." Which was true even if it did not fully explain the situation. "Vegetables also."

Thus they were astonished to learn that she called those brown things on sticks 'dates' in her tongue but had never liked them, though she had to admit when the seller insisted she try one that these were far sweeter and more delicious than anything she remembered. She recognised coriander, revealed she had indeed eaten squid before now (though admittedly not pickled), and declared the white salty cheese that seemed to be a speciality in these parts was called 'feta' in her language.

So the whole experience was an eye-opener for all concerned, for a variety of reasons.

Eventually, they headed out onto the Pelennor. More traders with stalls and sellers with baskets were ranged around the gate, and there were little tents and awnings all over the place as the fete got underway. Various fires were going and meat roasting over them, being hand-turned on spits. Brewers were already doing a roaring trade, with many having hired boys with trays to go round offering a mug of ale for a small price which they would pour for you then and there from a jug, but wait till you were done with the mug before wandering off to find another customer.

As they made their way through the crowds, it was clear things were gearing up for an afternoon's entertainment for the masses. Word of the fete had spread far and wide, and it seemed just about anyone with a talent or a trick had arrived in the hope of earning a few coins.

There was an awning over a rude platform on which mummers were performing. It seemed to have a cast of thousands, many of the characters played by one actor just changing masks, donning a false moustache or wearing a different hat.

As far as Penny could make out (it was all in Westron and a particularly thick, local dialect form to boot, so Halladan informed her) the story involved a maiden (played by a boy in dress that was several sizes too big for him and clearly had a couple of oranges stuffed into the front) who had been dragged off by two particularly ugly and stupid trolls (who were the comic relief judging from the huge amount of laughter, hooting and general noises of derision they generated from the crowd) and had to be rescued by the daring hero (who was a well-meaning idiot). The daring hero was aided and abetted in this enterprise by his horse (a man in a rough-hewn horse's head) who was clearly far more intelligent than his owner and thus the brains of the operation.

Apparently this was all terribly amusing, and possibly even a tad crude: one joke that got a particularly raucous reaction from the crowd made Halladan and Arvain splutter and cough (though whether in surprise or an attempt to not laugh Penny was not entirely sure) and then drag Penny away rather quickly.

There was a troop of puppeteers entertaining adults and children alike with ancient tales of battles and kings. Here too there were puppets of orcs and trolls, and Penny reflected on the fact that such things were the stuff of everyday life to most people rather than pure fantasy and fairytale. Having an orc in a puppet show was probably much like having the crocodile in Punch and Judy.

The few nobles wandering through the crowd kept their distance and smiled indulgently at whatever pastimes came into view. Clearly much of what was on offer was considered rather rustic and beneath them.

The elves showed a similarly detached interest, as an adult may observe a child at play, clearly seeing most of this as a fascinating expression of mortal and Gondorian culture. However, some of it was a little too 'rough and ready' even for the elves of Imladris who were more used to mortals and their idea of entertainment, since the mummers came close to being told to sling their hooks at one point after a particularly frank and obscene exchange between 'Troll Two' and 'Hero's Horse' was conducted just as Celeborn, Elrond, Faramir and Elladan had stopped to see the show for a moment. Faramir had been most apologetic, but the ellyn, as clearly shocked as they were, muttered something about understanding the mortal obsession with such things and for Faramir not to concern himself.

When Durion heard about it, though, he gave the mummers what-for. They replied to the effect that 'they only gave the people what the people wanted. Besides elves had children and presumably by the same means that mortals did, did they not? So what, exactly, was the problem?' Durion's response to that was quite something, so it was said. 'Exploding like Mount Orodruin' would be putting it mildly.

However, at Elrond's behest the mummers were not put a stop to.

"After all this is a day for the common folk, so let them have their amusement. It is only just."

Aragorn agreed, adding that he had enjoyed many a bawdy mummers' performance in his time, an admission that earned him a raised eyebrow from his wife and some chuckles from those around him.

The only thing that was put a stop to was the dancing bears. There was some protest both from the bears' owner as well as some of those watching, but it was a royal edict from the king that the bears were not to be treated in such a manner. The owner was compensated for the cost of his bears, but was otherwise sent on his way. The bears were kept in an enclosure until Faramir could find some men willing and able to take on the job of releasing them up in the mountains.

Penny was loving every minute of it. She took advantage of the elves' curiosity and ability to stay relatively aloof and strolled around the place with impunity. Similarly the Dunedain were far more at ease with such things than the nobles of Minas Tirith, so she was in excellent company to get the full experience. She tasted the beer, ate roast meat, admired the jugglers, and basically thoroughly enjoyed herself.

A little further away from the gates there were fenced off areas. Some were filled with livestock of various kinds – mainly goats, cows or geese – brought to market for sale. Other larger areas were where such things as pig-catching or contests of strength were taking place. As Penny and the others neared one, two men were struggling to pull carts loaded with beer kegs. It was here that the wrestling would be held a little later on.

"Ah, my lords, ladies, please do come and take some wine with His Majesty."

Durion, ever flustered, was pointing towards a large gazebo-type affair with other tents nearby it and flags flying from the poles. Penny could make out the glint of gold and jewels as various nobles and elves took advantage of the shade. They thanked him and went to join their fellows as Durion went hurrying off to try and round up others and send servants hither and yon to do the same.

The field in front of the tents was a long one, and the one in which the archery competition was to be held. The elves had resisted attempts that they join in with the actual contest, thinking (rightly, no doubt) that no mortal would stand a chance against any of them. Instead a show of skill would be held with the best of the Gondorians and amongst the best of the elves.

The competition came first. It was clear from some of the muttering around Penny that the elves thought the targets were laughably close, and the tasks rather simple. A mere elfling could manage it, according to Rhimlath, though most others suggested a young adult elf with little experience was more accurate.

The Dunedain took part, or some of them did. Faelon was amongst them. Halladan sat watching his friend with a serious expression, occasionally smiling and sometimes shaking his head and muttering when he felt he could have made a better shot. Invariably at such times Faelon too would look annoyed with himself. He did well, but it was one of Faramir's men who won and had even earned a few compliments from the elves, which was high praise indeed. Several of the young men, some barely adult, who had taken part and showed promise were taken aside by various ellyn who discussed technique with them. The youths listened with rapt attention to every tip passed on.

Then came the show of skill. Penny was upset to learn that a lot of this would involve releasing various birds from baskets, even if she was assured that no dead bird would be wasted and every one would be eaten. The Gondorians had shown themselves to be able and skilled archers, and that their bows were powerful, but it was as nothing to the elves, who of course had the advantage of height as well as longer (and thus more powerful) bows.

Rhimlath and Glorfindel were included in the display, not because they were amongst the best of the best (though Rhimlath was a very excellent archer in his own right), but because they had promised they would, and this seemed like an ideal opportunity. Legolas took part so that Eryn Lasgalen might be represented, and Celeborn also in many ways to make it clear to those watching that rank was not an issue – that a leader had to prove his worth in battle as much as anyone else.

As the preparations were made the crowd of commoners swelled quite considerably, with many children pushing their way through the sea of legs to get a good view, or else being hoisted onto the shoulders of fathers, older brothers or uncles.

There were murmurs from amongst the Gondorians – nobles and commoners alike - as the targets were pushed back quite some distance and yet the central bulls-eyes were hit with a deadly accuracy every time. It was clear from the furious glances Glorfindel was giving Rhimlath that Rhimlath deliberately splitting every arrow of Glorfindel's in two with his own was annoying the Noldo considerably.

Then came the birds. Much to the Gondorians' surprise, the birds were not hit immediately on release, but rather the elvish archers waited until they were at some distance and preferably flying high and fast. Of course this did mean that some escaped with their lives, since they headed off in the direction of the crowd, but those that could be shot down in safety were done so, to the admiration of the watchers.

The battle between Glorfindel and Rhimlath had reached fever pitch by this point. The archers were put in pairs for the release of each set of birds, and it was clear that Rhimlath was a faster shot since he managed to bring down just about every bird Glorfindel aimed for. Not one did Glorfindel shoot down alone, but rather if he managed a hit, the bird was hit twice: once by himself and near simultaneously by Rhimlath. To most onlookers this seemed to be a deliberate show of consummate skill, but to everyone who knew the pair they understood it had not been Glorfindel's intention and he had been bested fair and square. He was, however, gracious in defeat, loudly admitting Rhimlath the better archer as he clasped him by the arm warmly and declared he would be proud to fight alongside him. Celeborn added that Rhimlath had done Lothlorien proud and Rhimlath could not have looked more pleased with himself if he had tried. Admittedly Celeborn had brought the house down by shooting his three birds while blindfolded, but Penny had thought that was just showing off. Arwen said as much as to him later and when her grandfather protested, Galadriel backed her up.

There was to be hare coursing next and Penny was in no mood to watch it. So she was grateful when Meresel grabbed her by the elbow and let her know her husband's young cousin would be wrestling any minute.

"Oh, I will come with you," Halladan said. "Arvain has insisted on joining in."

On their way to the wrestling ground, Halladan stopped for a moment beside Faramir who was in conversation with Pippin and a tall man with a kind face who was about Halladan's age.

"Pen-ii? May I introduce you to someone?" he murmured. "Ah, Beregond," he said out loud. "It is good to see you."

Penny smiled broadly if a little shyly as he was introduced, and Bergil also, standing proudly by his father. They were probably within the city limits by being here but on a day such as this no one was going to press the point, and Beregond was not within the city walls and that was the main point. It was clear to Penny he was held in great regard by many there, not least Faramir, who spoke in glowing terms of him to Penny till the poor man was near pink with embarrassment.

"Will you be watching the wrestling?" Penny asked. "We are on our way there now."

There seemed to be a moment of slight surprise followed by Meresel quickly explaining her husband's cousin was competing.

"Ah, yes, of course," Faramir replied.

Penny, Halladan and Meresel walked away just as Bergil started pestering his father about going to watch the wrestling ('oh please, please, please, please, because if _they_ are going to see it then why not?')

"It is not quite the accepted thing," Meresel was explaining. "I am not sure Lord Faramir wholly approves…"

"Oh, I should not worry," Halladan said breezily. "After all, I do not doubt he has wrestled in his time as a younger man."

"I do remember…" Meresel was thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, I am sure I saw him wrestle once. But I was really very young – probably no older than young Bergil – so Lord Faramir was probably not much older than Corunír is now."

"And only a few years younger than Arvain… Ah, and there he is!"

Arvain was standing inside the enclosure, a slightly excited look about him and a grin from ear to ear. Halladan called his name, but the din was too loud for Arvain to hear him. Inside the ring two men were grappling with each other, their faces grim and determined. Around the enclosure a huge crowd had formed. Bets were being taken on the outcome, children were up on people's shoulders, and there was a somewhat rough and raucous atmosphere. It was clear at once this was not really a sport for the nobility, or at least the nobility did not usually take part in such contests in public like this. That said, Penny recognised one or two Gondorian lords in the crowd, cheering someone on – a young family member, a loyal servant or even a man under their command.

There were very few ladies of a noble class there at all. Indeed, Halladan made a point of escorting Meresel and Penny to stand with Meresel's husband and his younger brother – both men of Halladan's age or Faramir's. A small bench was provided for Meresel and Penny to share, and while Halladan protested at being offered a stool, he did look rather grateful to be able to take the weight off his leg when he sat down at last.

Meresel's husband's cousin, Corunír, did well, but eventually lost his bout to a particularly well-built cooper from Lebennin. Afterwards, Corunír came over to the barrier near to where his cousins stood, a cut over one eye from a close encounter with one of the cooper's elbows, but a huge grin on his face. Penny could see he was indeed young: no more than twenty and probably a year or two under that. He had a cheeky grin. Not quite like Arvain's. No, this was more roguish. Looking at him Penny felt that this young man had a lot of growing up to do, despite what he had recently been through since she did not doubt for a second he had been to war. There was something about that grin, that 'devil may care' smirk that reminded her so much of her brother…

"Pen-ii?"

She almost jumped. She looked up to see Halladan looking at her slightly curiously. She realised her eyes were wet and blinked hurriedly, forcing a smile.

"Sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere."

She wondered if he thought he had been staring at this young man and if so then for what reasons that might have been. She felt faintly embarrassed at the thought he may have completely misunderstood.

"Arvain's bout is about to begin."

Arvain did very well, winning his bout if not easily then fairly convincingly at the last. He and his opponent were fairly well matched, and not just in terms of stature and strength: his opponent was another young noble like himself. No roughing it for the likes of a Dunadan – their reputation and fame went before them and most were known by name by all.

If anyone wondered at Penny being completely unfazed at seeing men stripped to the waist they did not comment. She made no attempt to avert her gaze or seem slightly shy like Meresel or the few other younger ladies of Gondor in the vicinity, and in that respect Penny was no different to the ordinary women, of which there were many round about. Indeed just after Arvain's bout was won there was a shout of Penny's name and she turned to see a hand waving in the crowd as Mílves, a broad beam all over her face, pushed her way through the throng towards her.

"Lady Pen-ii, my dear! Well, how very nice to see you here and with some friends too! Well, now, Lord Halladan if your young brother did not do a stand up job just now and no mistake. I was saying to my husband only just this minute about how fine a wrestler he makes and I should know, having seen my husband and five sons take their turn many's the time before now. And nursed their black eyes afterwards too and wrenched thumbs and I don't know what else!" She laughed and Penny smiled with her even though she had had to guess at most of what she had said, but Mílves's energy was just infectious like that. "Now, why don't you come along with me and meet my boys. They've heard all about you, of course, you being the only woman with all them elvish lords and ladies. Quite the novelty, you are, my dear…"

And before she knew what was happening, Penny was being taken by the arm and pulled back through the crowd with Mílves. She glanced back to see Halladan grinning and shaking his head.

"I will come and rescue you if need be," he called after her in Sindarin, laughter in his voice, and then was lost from sight.

* * *

Author's Notes:

The blue cloth of the desert nomads is based on just such a cloth/dye used by the Tuareg of the Sahara. Similarly the 'shops' of nothing more than an open-fronted work room piled high with wares while the craftsman gets on with manufacturing is a common feature of many more old-fashioned markets in many parts of the world. Souks are probably the ones that come mostly quickly to mind, but elsewhere also.

As dull as it may sound, any archaeologist will tell you that bowls and in particular bowl pieces with the rim still attached are very diagnostic things on a dig. Subtle changes in the kind of clay used or patterns and shapes can tell historians a lot in terms of dating a strata and placing the site within a specific cultural context. … Yes, I do watch a lot of Time Team, why do you ask?

My apologies for the obscene mummers. snerk They were meant to be serious but me being me they quickly descended into rude comedy mummers. (Surprise, surprise – lol) I mean you can't have a fete for the ordinary folk without a troupe of rude, comedy mummers, can you?

As ever – my sincere thanks to everyone reading this, and especially those who take time to review, comment and leave con crit.

Oh, and for the many that asked: 'happy as Larry' just means 'extremely happy, pleased with oneself'. No, I have no idea who Larry is or was or quite what he was so happy about. /grin/


	31. Of Course, You Realise This Means War

Thanks to all who are reading and those dropping comments and reviews - I do appreciate it, and am so glad this story is still entertaining for people.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 31** - _"Of Course, You Realise This Means War"_

The night after the fete Penny slept like a log. She was still on the slow road to recovery in some respects. It had been a long and exhausting day in the heat, and for one with low energy reserves that was a lot to deal with. She still felt slightly out of it the next day.

Milves was particularly cheery with her that morning and unsurprisingly so, given how well Penny had gone down with her family. Of course her 'boys', as Milves insisted on calling her sons, were far from being 'boys' since they were all easily as old as Halladan (or nearly) and all were married and had children of varying ages. Milves was mother hen to quite a tribe. Admittedly one had lost a hand, another had a very pronounced limp and yet another had terrible scarring to one side of his face, but they were a cheerful, happy band nonetheless. Her husband was a red-faced man with a ready laugh who clearly enjoyed his ale and his food. They had all made Penny feel very welcome, even with the communication difficulties. Indeed it had only been when Eleniel tapped her on the shoulder, saying it was time they headed off for a late supper up in the Seventh Circle and gesturing at Arvain, Halladan and Lindir standing nearby, that she finally left Milves's company. As she did so, she did not realise she had just agreed she would come round for lunch or supper one day to Milves's home.

"And you must come too, Lady Eleniel, though I do not doubt you would find it a simple meal in basic lodgings compared to what you must be used to…"

"Not at all, Milves, I would be most honoured."

And Eleniel had meant it, though she could guess perhaps better than Penny what the reaction of certain ladies of Gondor would be when they found out about it.

Indeed, as the days progressed, Penny little knew what was going on with some of the ladies of Gondor, though she probably could have made an educated guess.

Several of the ladies of the court, mainly friends of Meresel, had made Penny feel welcome, and they were those who made a point of getting their brothers or sons (depending on their age) to ask her for dances of an evening. They were also happy to see her when she shyly arrived in the Queen's chambers on occasion, as Arwen had requested of her, and fussed over her and praised her dreadful sewing and encouraged her.

A few of these reactions were genuine, like Meresel's, but there were a larger number amongst this group who saw in Penny a means by which they could get the Queen's favour, and after a few days Penny found them a little overbearing, particularly after the evening meal. She would try and find some respite with her friends, and at times even went outside to hunt down Halladan and sit quietly with him.

"Escaping the ladies of Gondor?" he would ask with a grin and then, without waiting for an answer, he would chuckle, shake his head, and shift over on the step or bench to make space for her beside him.

However, there were others who, like Sidhwen, saw Penny as something of a threat and a rival. Penny did not know it but her actions at the fete had been something of a gift to them, since Sidhwen had seen her 'ogling' the wrestlers (as she put it), as well as the company she had chosen to keep afterwards. The fact that Meresel had been there with her was conveniently overlooked, of course. It was enough that she had been present at such a low-brow event, obviously enjoying the entertainment and then spent a very long time socialising with Milves and her family as if they were her equals.

"I mean, she was staring, positively staring at half-naked labourers and tinkers! It was disgusting! She was so wanton about it too. Frankly, if you ask me, I think that speaks volumes about the sort of woman she really is…"

"Well, yes, because _I_ heard that no one really knows terribly much about her…"

"Just found wandering, dazed and confused in the woods…"

"Probably some peasant lunatic or worse…"

Quite what the 'worse' could be was not stated openly, but it was heavily implied.

Penny had clearly shown herself to not be a 'lady' by their standards, and therefore was probably actually some provincial yokel who had landed on her feet by losing her memory and being taken in by the great and the good. Frankly, she did not deserve such luxury or kindness and should go back to where she came from or, if where that might be could not be established, then at the very least demoted to the class to which she truly belonged.

The more the whispering and bitching continued, the more outlandish the suggestions and assumptions became. Thus Penny slowly morphed into a woman of no moral character whatsoever, and thus was viewed as deeply suspect. That everyone had been taken in by her only proved her to be a devious trollop who was not to be trusted, but Sidhwen and others could see her for what she truly was.

"Ugh, how she fawns over Arvain," Sidhwen would sneer when Penny was doing nothing of the kind and merely laughing loudly over some jibe Arvain had thrown.

Indeed, Sidhwen did herself little favour by trying to drive a wedge between Penny and Arvain. She told her friends it was to protect Arvain from Penny's deception before "she could get her claws into him," though in reality she was desperately worried the growing friendship between Arvain and Penny would turn into something more and she would be shoved out of the picture (not that she was ever in the picture to start with except in her own head, it has to be said).

Needless to say, Arvain was unamused, especially since Sidhwen was becoming more and more blatant about trying to pull him in the opposite direction if they neared Penny, or squeezing herself between the two of them as she simpered and pleaded for a dance. When she went so far as to whisper comments about Penny herself to him, though, such as being 'surprised people were not a little more wary of someone about whose history nothing was known since, well, she could be absolutely anyone from anywhere,' he had had enough.

That he became rather cold towards Sidhwen from that point on only served as fuel to the fire. Penny instantly became Primary Target Number One as far as Sidhwen was concerned, and she now went out of her way to foment the growing cattiness about Penny in some quarters.

For his part, Arvain had a quiet word with his brother, and they both decided the best plan was to lie low but keep an eye on Sidhwen in case she caused trouble. They also worked as best they could to keep the two women apart. That said, neither of them doubted for a moment that, given what they had heard their father say of Penny's performance in Bree, let alone the insights into her character they had since had from others and seen for themselves, if push came to shove Penny was perfectly capable of giving Sidhwen something she would never forget.

However, the court would be likely to never forget it, either, or forgive it any time soon if it got particularly spectacular, so it was best avoided if at all possible.

In the meantime, while all of this was being played out behind her back, Penny was finding the days were passing by swiftly. She had not a spare hour, it seemed, with so much to do and so many people glad of her company.

The library was wonderful, and Istdor became a like a kindly old uncle to her in some ways. His tour of the city when it finally came was breathtaking in its depth and breadth. Even Lindir had to admit it had been quite something, though he had been seen suppressing a yawn at one point as Rhimlath and Istdor got into a prolonged discussion on various kinds of mortar. Penny showed herself to be particularly gifted in diverting the pair away from tedious discussions by asking pertinent questions that would get Istdor completely overexcited and bustling on to the next building or spot, even if Rhimlath was in full flow. Lindir congratulated her on it later.

"I shall have to rely on your services more often, young lady, when I am stuck with the pair of them." He smiled slightly too sweetly.

"Indeed? I shall have to give you a very wide berth if ever I see you in their company, in that case," she retorted.

The day after the market she took Legolas up on his offer. She was at a loose end after lunch and they had been sitting near to each other at the meal. Afterwards, as they walked together with the others out to the courtyard, she touched his elbow and stayed him.

"L-Legolas, would you… I mean, if it is not… You are probably busy…"

He smiled gently, and understood immediately.

"I am not in the least bit busy, Lady Pen-ii. Let us go somewhere quiet and private where we can talk freely."

They walked slowly towards the royal chambers, Legolas chatting almost nonchalantly all the while. If anyone stopped them to talk, Legolas responded politely, all smiles, but made it clear that he was terribly sorry he really had to be somewhere else and would they mind terribly…

Eventually Penny found he had taken her to a small inner courtyard somewhere behind the Throne Room. There were tubs with a few fragrant plants in them and a circular bench in the centre. They stayed in the shade of the cloister, finding a small stone seat carved into one wall.

And there, quietly and gently, Legolas talked.

For how long Penny was not sure, but she sat entranced as he spoke, never seeming to tire, of what he had been a witness to. He made her smile, even laugh at times at some of the little things he remembered of quips or jokes between the Nine Walkers as they had travelled. He also made her desperately upset, even weep quietly once or twice, and at such moments he would stop and wait, smiling sadly down at her, or even staring out at the courtyard as if briefly lost in the memories himself.

His description of Fangorn made her regret having been such a fool while she had been there. She told him of her near phobic fear of the Ent, and Legolas smiled indulgently - clearly she was proving herself to be very mortal and very young with such an admission.

His description of the battle of Helm's Deep was something else, though, let alone those when they won the ships at Pelargir or on the Pelennor itself. He gave no details, as such, but spoke men's names with reverence and named them 'warrior' or 'hero' or 'honourable man', and she knew from the way he spoke he had seen them fall and go down fighting. She wanted desperately to ask him about Halbarad, but she did not know if he had seen him die and she was not wholly sure she would want to know the truth of how it had happened.

"They are buried there," he was saying, gesturing vaguely to the south. "South of the city so they might greet the sun and be warmed by it through much of the day. Many lie there."

"And those who fell at the Black Gate?"

He looked at her, his face so young and the eyes so old, so sad.

"There were too many for us to bring them back here, Pen-ii. They were buried there, where they fell."

Of course. She felt so stupid. Yet she also wondered how those who had lost men there felt to know they were buried in the sight of Mordor itself. She thought of Hirvell and then many others she now had heard tell of who had fallen there. But then, she reasoned, they were not the first to have been left behind on that battlefield; Legolas's own grandfather was one, for a start.

"I would have liked to have met Hirvell," was all she said.

Legolas nodded. "He was a noble man. Like his brothers and his father before him."

"Legolas? I do not know how things are done amongst the edain, what their customs are, but would it be considered inappropriate for me to ask to visit the place where the Dunedain are buried?"

Legolas looked at her, and his gaze was full of understanding and tenderness.

"I do not think so, no. I think those who knew Halbarad and loved him well would be most moved to know you wished to pay your final respects to him and honour him in your own fashion."

Penny nodded and thanked him. How to broach the subject, and with whom, would be something she would have to think about at another time.

Unsurprisingly all that Legolas had to say could not all be told in one sitting; and more than once therefore, Legolas took her back to that spot, sometimes sitting, sometimes strolling round the cloisters at a slow, measured pace. It was quite cathartic in many ways, and Penny was very grateful to him. She still found life difficult, though. Every wound she saw, every death she heard of, every ruin she passed by in the lower circles reminded her of her decision and the part she had had to play, albeit from a great distance, in the outcome of it all. She kept reminding herself over and over that greater decisions with more weight and heavier outcomes had been made by minds far wiser than hers, but while she knew that to be true it was still taking time to overcome her instinctive distress.

Not only that, but ever since Legolas had told her the burial sites were to the South, Mireth and Eleniel sometimes found her staring out of the window of their room as if trying to see if she could make out mounds in the distance.

On occasion she spent an hour or two with Gandalf also, who was happy to talk of things from his point of view. At times Aragorn was with him, though it was rare when he could spare more than a half hour since the business of state was ever pressing on his time. Gandalf did not push Penny in regard to those questions she was desperate to know the answers to. There would be time enough yet, and she was still adjusting to being in Gondor and seeing the Fellowship once more. His presence helped considerably, and she always felt that much calmer after she had spoken with him even if only for a short while.

Lunch with Milves was quite something. Eleniel came, as she had promised, as did Mireth at Milves's insistence. They in their turn had said they would bring some of the fruit they had bought at the market, even though Milves protested it was not necessary, but for once she was overruled.

Her lodgings were in the third circle, in a large rambling house set back off a side street. They kept chickens and a goat for milking in a yard out the back, and the grandchildren were running riot, but it was a fine spread Milves had laid on for them, no doubt with the help of her daughters-in-law. There was fresh baked bread and home made cheese, and someone had slaughtered a sheep in their honour which had been spitted and roasted. It was served with soup and potatoes. Somehow Penny suspected the family did not always eat quite this sumptuously.

Milves's eldest arrived with a barrel of ale, for which he was scolded by his mother. That was quite something – seeing a man a year or two older than Halladan being spoken to as if he were no more than six years of age. Apparently he should have brought wine for such refined guests and had in fact been expressly told to do exactly that, but the brewer was a friend of his and had struck him a special deal, and besides "there is nothing wrong with Minas Tirith ale, Mother, so let me have some peace!"

Mireth hastily accept ed a cup of ale and declared it to be easily as good as any elvish wine she had tasted. They knew she was lying but Milves beamed nonetheless and her eldest smiled gratefully, breathed a sigh of relief and left them to it.

Lunch was a female affair, though Milves' husband did turn up briefly to get a hunk of bread and some cheese before heading back out down to the First Circle where he was helping rebuild a friend's house. He also sneaked a tankard of the ale when Milves's back was turned, putting a finger to his lips as he tried to creep away with it on tiptoe.

"Grandpa's taken some of the guests' drink!" a tiny voice piped up.

Milves turned with a gasp and a face like thunder just in time to see her husband's heels as he sped out of the door. She grabbed a broom and raced after him, but he was gone.

"I will get you for that, you old goat!" she shouted after him, waving her broomstick out the door and down the street. She was chuckling and grinning as she came back in, though.

Of course the whole episode was added to the list of things that showed Penny's 'true nature' as far as certain persons in the court were concerned: namely, hobnobbing with the staff. The elves did it, yes, but then the elves were a law unto themselves and, like royalty, allowed to do pretty much what they liked. Penny, for all she was in elvish company, was human and subject to the social mores the ladies felt were necessary for one who was likely as not about to become another of their number.

Exactly when Sidhwen got hold of her golden piece of information, however, was not entirely clear. Whether someone told her directly or she overheard a gossipy conversation one night she did not say, indeed it is likely she heard it from more than one source. Elves have loose tongues at the best of times and there was surely no harm in admitting what had been an amusing episode albeit a rather sad one in retrospect.

The trouble was that, inevitably, this piece of information then underwent 'The Sidhwen Effect' in that it became grossly distorted and twisted out of all proportion, and quite deliberately so given it concerned Penny. Hence by the time Chinese Whispers had also been to work on it, it was something quite different from whatever it was that Sidhwen may have overheard or been told.

"Oh, I heard she was really quite brazen about it."

"I can believe that, after all Sidhwen has been completely shut out of Lord Arvain's affections, thanks to that woman…"

"Well, exactly. Poor Lord Boromir did not know where to put himself, so I am told."

"… practically throwing herself at him…"

"… no better than a 'lady of the night'…"

"… Lord Boromir tried to be as polite as he could…"

"… Lord Elrond was hugely embarrassed…"

"Well, someone told me there was an 'incident' in the gardens which left her in hysterics and Boromir looking appalled and shocked. I do not think I need to elaborate further…"

"No, of course you do not! Ugh, how shameful!"

Within a day at the most, it was round the entire court that Penny had, in effect, jumped on Boromir in a wanton display of lust and Boromir had practically had to beat her off with a stick. Elrond had done his best to smooth things over, had read Penny the riot act, and Boromir had been most gracious and forgiving, though he had done his best to completely avoid Penny after that. Quite what Elrond had been thinking in bringing Penny with him to Gondor, let alone putting forward the idea that she might like to stay, some people really had no idea. Perhaps Boromir was not the only one Penny had thrown herself at and Elrond was trying to get rid of her, but then if that was the case it was hardly any surprise, given that she had obviously been in her element amongst the Great Unwashed at the fete and no doubt had no more manners than the crudest of the crude.

Which is not to say the majority believed it for a moment. Indeed as soon as it came to the ears of any elf, Dunadan or hobbit they quickly slapped it down saying it was utter rubbish, though several did confirm that they had heard she had been a little sweet on Boromir, but it had been no more than that.

Arwen was furious. She and Eleniel went out of their way to make it clear in no uncertain terms to the ladies of the court that it was untrue, but for all their efforts it was clear there was bile building in some quarters and at some point it would have to be tackled head-on.

"I hear you had a soft spot for my brother," a quiet voice said into Penny's ear that night.

Penny wheeled in shock. "I... er… what?"

"Oh, please do not be embarrassed. Lord Elrond told me and I am glad that he impressed you so. He was a good and noble man, fair of face and loved by his people."

"Y-yes." Penny had no idea what to say, how to explain… even if she should try and explain given Elrond clearly had not. Why on earth at Elrond told him this?

Faramir smiled sadly and took her hand. He gave it a gentle, sympathetic squeeze. He was about to let go and move away when Penny spoke.

"Lord Faramir? May I ask you? Did… Did Lord Boromir have a sweetheart here in the city? Only he told me that…"

Faramir smiled once more. "If he did, I knew nothing of it." He looked at her, no doubt considering why his brother may have said such a thing. "It may be it was some secret love, or it may be…"

"Yes, I know." She cursed herself for the crack she could hear in her own voice. "He was being kind."

"If so it was very like him."

She nodded, dumbly, as Faramir gave her hand a second squeeze before walking away slowly.

Penny did not join the company again that night. She stayed in the courtyard, sitting in silence next to Halladan for a little while, grateful that he did not press her on why she seemed so upset or untalkative. He too had heard the rumours and he, with Arvain, could guess the source of them. Their father had told them what Penny had managed to convey to him about Boromir – news that had been confirmed the moment they had met up with Aragorn in Rohan. It was obvious to them why she had acted as she had, and yet how it had been mistakenly perceived by others. Even so, for it to have been twisted into something as base as this… He could happily throttle that squawking harpy Sidhwen.

At last Penny murmured something about heading off to bed and rose from the bench they shared.

"Pen-ii?"

She turned back to him.

"Pay them no heed."

Pay who no heed, she wondered. Penny had been mulling over why Elrond would have said anything to Faramir at all, and she was completely baffled by it, especially given the fact that Elrond knew the real reason behind her behaviour. Did Halladan know something?

He could see she seemed confused. He waved his hand.

"No matter. It is of no consequence. Sleep well. I would offer to walk you to your door, but I know you would just say I need not trouble myself."

"On the contrary, I would be glad of your company."

He nodded, smiled and, grabbing his stick, pulled himself upright. "Very good. In that case… Shall we?" He gestured ahead of them, and they walked side by side across the courtyard.

"Faramir said something very strange to me earlier."

"Did he?"

"He knows that some say I was enamoured of Boromir. Lord Elrond told him. I do not understand why he would do so."

Halladan stopped, leant on his stick and sighed. He was a firm believer in being up front and honest.

"Then it is best you know that there is some talk about it among certain sections of the court. I suspect Faramir heard it, and asked Elrond about the truth of it. Elrond explained as best he could given he was no doubt surrounded by people who may not know your full story."

"Oh." She blinked, torn between being upset and downright livid.

"As I said, Pen-ii, pay them no heed. There are more than enough here who know you well and know, if not the facts, then the truth of what was seen to have happened rather than the version being whispered. Those with too much time on their hands and not enough brains in their heads to listen to such nonsense are not worth your time or energy."

"Yes, but if I am to stay here…"

It was the first time she had mentioned it to him. He showed no reaction.

"Ah, I had heard that was being considered. So, you have made your decision?"

"No."

He merely nodded for a moment.

"Even so, such people will find they get short shrift with their King and Queen, let alone nobles such as Lord Faramir and others like him. Pay them no mind, Pen-ii."

So saying he led her to her door and bade her goodnight.

It was easier said than done, and when Eleniel and Mireth came to bed a little later there was some discussion into the night about it all. They too advised Penny to ignore it as best she could, that the matter was being dealt with and the rumour scotched.

That was not the end of it, though. Not by a long chalk. For some time Sidhwen had become more brazen in her put-downs of Penny within her hearing, and Penny for her turn, emboldened by what she now knew some of the other ladies thought of Sidhwen, responded in kind. It was clear things were coming to head.

Then, late one afternoon Penny rounded a corner into an alley as she left the Queen's chambers just in time to see Sidhwen, nose in the air and striding about as if she owned the place, walk straight into a maidservant from the kitchens carrying a heavily laden tray. No doubt the tray was meant for the Hall of Feasts since it had baskets of bread and several large flagons of wine. The flagons smashed to pieces on the stone flags and the wine spilled down the entire front of Sidhwen's dress, staining the pale green a livid, dark burgundy.

"YOU STUPID, IDIOTIC IMBECILE!" Sidhwen screamed.

The poor maidservant, not much younger than Sidhwen herself, was nearly in tears. No doubt as frightened as she was of the sharp end of Sidhwen's tongue, she was even more scared of what she thought Durion would say to hear she had smashed four flagons, spilled all that wine and got however many bread rolls utterly ruined in the process (given they were doing a very good job of soaking up what wine had not spilled down Sidhwen),.

Sidhwen was giving the maid what-for, even though it had been Sidhwen who had not been looking where she was going, and indeed seemed so enraged that Penny was genuinely concerned that she was about to hit the girl.

She stepped forward.

"It was an accident, Lady Sidhwen."

Sidhwen pretended she either had not heard or could not understand her (Penny had spoken in Sindarin) and completely blanked her.

"You will pay for this," she said in Westron to the maidservant. "You understand me? I shall speak to Master Durion and make sure a new dress is paid for from your wages, girl. This one is ruined thanks to your stupidity and clumsiness!"

Erestor's lessons, as well as hearing quite a bit of Westron day in day out, were clearly paying off because even if she did not get every word, Penny understood enough.

"What is your name?" she asked the maid, ignoring Sidhwen the way Sidhwen had just ignored her.

The maid stared back at her blankly, tray still in hand, clearly bewildered and very upset.

"Your name?" she tried again in Westron this time.

"Her name is none of your concern, Lady Pen-ii," Sidhwen snapped. "Do not tell her your name," she said to the maid. "She will only report you to the King and get you in serious trouble."

The maid's hand flew to her mouth as she gasped in horror.

"What did you just say to her?" Penny was getting angry now. "What did you tell her I would say to the King?"

"This is not your business," Sidhwen replied, deliberately sticking to Westron even though Penny had spoken to her in Sindarin. "This oaf has ruined my dress and…"

"What in Arda is going on here!" Durion sounded furious. The maid blanched.

Sidhwen quickly explained she had been minding her own business when the clearly incompetent maidservant had practically thrown the tray at her and it was a good job she did not get a flagon in her eye. Her dress, as Master Durion could see, was utterly ruined and she demanded the cost of a new one be taken out of the girl's pay.

Penny noticed Master Durion hesitate at that, which suggested that the cost of a dress for a lady of the court would take a rather large chunk out of a maidservant's pay.

"And you," Durion turned to the girl. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I-I-I am sorry, Master Durion. I really do not know how it happened…"

The maidservant was wary of accusing one of her 'betters' at being at fault, particularly one as spiteful and vindictive as Lady Sidhwen was known to be.

Durion snorted. "Well, I am afraid if you cannot find a better response than that, then we will have to find a way of buying a new dress for Lady Sidhwen, will we not?"

The maid hung her head and looked ready to burst into tears once more.

Penny was just about managing to follow the gist from the odd word and guessing the rest.

"If I might be so bold, Master Durion?"

Sidhwen glared at her.

"If I understand correctly, this girl must pay for a new dress for Lady Sidhwen? In which case, I wonder," she gestured at the large splotches and splashes all over the maidservant's skirt, "will Lady Sidhwen pay for a new dress for the maidservant?" There was a gasp of outrage from Sidhwen and Durion looked vaguely panicky. "After all, her skirts have been stained also, and ruined, and given the accident was actually Lady Sidhwen's fault…"

"JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE…!"

Durion quickly stepped in before Sidhwen could explode into a full tirade, suggesting that the matter was already settled, and perhaps the ladies should continue on to the courtyard while he got some servants to clear up the mess. He took the maidservant by the shoulder (gently, it has to be said) and hurried her away.

There was a brief moment where Penny and Sidhwen were left alone. Sidhwen, breathing hard and clearly fighting to keep her opinions to herself, and Penny looking back at her with a 'just try it' look all over her face.

At last Sidhwen opened her mouth to say something. Penny cut her off even as she drew breath.

"Do you not want to change your dress before supper?"

Servants had appeared, hurrying up the lane towards them armed with brooms, cloths and baskets. Sidhwen glanced at her dress, at the servants, gave one last furious glare at Penny and the flounced off in the direction she had come.

"Bitch," Penny muttered under her breath.

She was not sure who to talk to about the incident, but she was determined the maidservant should not be punished for something that was not her fault. It was probably a gross breach of etiquette or courtly code or something to 'snitch' on a fellow member of the court, but given this was Sidhwen, she really did not care. Actually, she realised, no matter who it had been she would feel the same: fair was fair.

She opted for Lord Faramir in the end.

"…I do not know her name. I did ask her but she seemed too frightened to tell me, but Master Durion will know who it is. I just wanted it known that she was not in the least bit at fault, and it seemed so very unfair that she lose money she probably sorely needs…"

Faramir promised he would look into it, though in fact Durion had already told him all about it and about Penny's rather extraordinary defence of the maid and even more extraordinary suggestion that Sidhwen buy the maid a dress.

Faramir in his turn spoke to the man whose judgement he trusted implicitly: Aragorn. Faramir was not disappointed. The royal purse paid for a new dress to be made for both Lady Sidhwen and the maidservant and neither was any the wiser. Thus peace was restored and honour was satisfied.

Or at least between all except Sidhwen and Penny, that is. Even Eleniel told Penny later she had probably been unwise to step in like that.

"Far better you had let the matter lie and then quietly spoken to Lord Faramir afterwards without confronting Sidhwen head on."

"I genuinely feared she might strike the poor girl. She was in a fearsome temper!"

"Oh, Sidhwen is all bluster and hot air," Meresel laughed. "You need not have feared, I am sure."

But, Penny thought, Meresel had not seen the look on Sidhwen's face, and Penny would not have been at all surprised if Sidhwen treated her own family's servants very badly indeed.

Thus the stage was set. A bitch and a hot-head were readying to face each other if the slightest thing should set them off, though perhaps the eventual trigger was not so 'slight' a one by some standards.

It was nearly a week since the market, and Penny was looking forward to choosing something to buy at the next one. It was coming up to lunchtime, and she and Erestor had just walked from the library together. The courtyard was slowly filling with people as they waited to enter the Hall of Feasts for the midday meal. Penny was with her usual crowd, though Arvain was not with them. Faelon was embarrassing Halladan by telling stories of when Halladan was a small boy and learning to ride a horse.

"You should have seen his face!" He was chuckling as he spoke. "Ai, Halbarad was no use at all because he was laughing so hard, and poor Halladan was being carried off into the distance shouting 'Stop, you stupid horse, stooooop!'"

"That horse was a menace," Halladan said with some feeling.

"Your father liked him."

"Father was the only one he listened to!"

Just then someone came running up to the courtyard from the gate. They made no pause but kept running, dodging in and out of the small groups of people, scanning all the while as if looking for someone urgently.

Then, just as quickly, two or three others appeared behind him, also running, also looking urgent and serious.

What had happened?

"Arvain?"

Faelon had recognised one of the last to arrive and had called out to the young Dunadan. Arvain made his way over to them.

Meanwhile the first man, a Gondorian, was pelting up the stairs to the Hall of Feasts having been pointed in that direction by someone as he passed them. Within minutes he had reappeared, Lord Faramir now with him and the two headed, at speed towards the gate down to the Sixth Circle.

"Lindir?" Faramir called over as he passed by them. "Where is Lord Elrond? We may have need of his skill…"

"I will fetch him," Lindir said immediately, not even waiting to find out what the matter was.

"Send him to the Houses of Healing," Faramir shouted, already moving away fast.

Lindir nodded and quickly went off towards Elrond's chambers.

"What has happened, Arvain?" Halladan's tone was dark.

"You remember Hiluin? Tall man, thin… lost both sons and his brother…"

Halladan and Faelon immediately knew who Arvain was referring to.

"He… he tried to kill his family less than an hour ago."

There were gasps of shock and horror.

"His wife is seriously injured," Arvain said quietly. "He would have killed his grandson outright had she not stood in his path to protect him… Then he turned on her."

"Surely not?" Faelon could scarcely believe it. "He has a lovely wife. I have met her more than once. As kind as you could wish for. And two small grandchildren…"

The news was spreading. A terrible, awful silence had replaced the chatter and laughter of only minutes before and only low murmured whispers were heard now and then.

Hiluin had been hit hard by his losses during the War. His eldest son had been married but he had lost his wife in childbirth as she delivered their second child. The son and grandchildren had then come to live with Hiluin and his wife, who loved the little ones as if they were their own. Then came the War, and Hiluin had lost his brother and youngest son on the Pelennor, only to cradle his eldest son as he died in his arms in front of the Black Gate. He was never the same man again. Friends and neighbours spoke of his black moods and wild rages, of heavy drinking and how his wife seemed pale and far quieter than she used to be.

Then this morning, seemingly for no reason, he had snapped. Some said he had been drunk, others that he had been driven mad by grief, but whatever the reason, his wife lay perhaps mortally wounded in the Houses of Healing, and he was under lock and key, now unnaturally still and silent by all accounts. The two small children were being cared for by neighbours.

Everyone felt like they were in shock, as if stunned, even those who had never known this man. Penny felt very upset, not just because of the brutal nature of what had happened, but because she did not doubt for one second that this man had been mentally unbalanced by the War, perhaps had even been in some sort of post-traumatic delirium. It happened, did it not? Admittedly it was not that common, but it was a documented thing: war veterans who had seen horrible, terrible things lashing out in a daze or a flashback without even realising what they were doing. That poor, poor man! His poor family! Penny glanced up to see that everyone was as upset and shaken by this as she was - those who knew him and his family especially. Halladan in particular seemed to find it difficult. He had paled as Arvain had spoken and now had stepped away from the rest, turning his back on them, his grip tight on the handle of his stick.

It was then that it happened.

A voice Penny recognised all too well as a small group wandered walked slowly by.

"Well, he was always a very peculiar man. I suspect he was already mad to begin with…"

"Sidhwen!" It was Meresel who spoke. "Do not say such things!" Her voice was shaking a little, and it was clear she was fighting back tears.

Penny glanced at Eleniel who whispered a translation of what Sidhwen had said. She felt her hackles rise.

"Oh, Meresel, please! Your husband fought, my father fought, countless other men here fought, Lords Faelon, Halladan and Arvain here, and none of them have tried to murder women and children. As much as it pains me to say it, the man must have been weak in the head in some way. He was affected by battle and that can only mean …"

"SHUT UP!"

The ferocity with which Penny roared it was more than enough to make sure there was a dead silence within a good twenty yard radius.

"You know what you are, Sidhwen?" She was too angry to bother with ridiculous niceties such as 'Lady' right now. "You are a stupid, malicious, good-for-nothing…" She struggled for a millisecond to find a suitable word in Sindarin and so plumped for English. "..bitch!"

Erestor's eyebrows shot upwards. "A female dog?" he murmured.

"How DARE you speak of such things, you stupid woman! You have no idea, NO IDEA what it was like to be out there," Penny gestured vaguely in the direction of the Pelennor, "fighting for your life, surrounded by death and horror and blood…"

Had she but noticed it, she would have seen Halladan's grip on his stick get so tight his knuckles showed white.

"…Do you honestly think that any man comes out of battle unchanged, you idiot!"

"Who are you calling stupid?" Sidhwen raged in response. "Of course I realise what was involved, but the fact that this man failed, was so cowardly as to let himself…"

There had been a gasp at the use of the word 'cowardly' and enough angrily muttered repetition of it in Sindarin for Penny to immediately know what Sidhwen had just said.

"You make me sick! How dare you use such a word when you have never fought in your life? Thanks to that man, to every man who fought, you have a city to live in! More than that, you have a life, freedom, you are not condemned to utter darkness and despair! How dare you speak of such bravery with such disrespect…!"

It was a very surreal shouting match – one ranting in Sindarin, the other in Westron, but both just about catching enough of what the other one was saying to form some kind of response.

"Oh, I see it is normal for a man to come home from War and try and kill his family, is it? You have no idea what you are talking about, Pen-ii! You have no clue about our lives or this society or what it is to be a soldier!"

"I know enough to understand war can deeply affect anyone who lives through it, leave them utterly changed, riven with guilt and torment and nightmares and worse! You speak so lightly of such things, and yet I do not doubt for a moment had you been out there in the middle of it all, you would not have lasted five minutes!"

"Oh, and you would have done better!"

"NO, OF COURSE NOT! THAT IS MY POINT! I am not so stupid as to think I could cope with such things, or to think so ill of anyone who has lived through it, no matter how marred he may be physically or mentally! Are you so cavalier about those who are injured? Do you mock those who have lost a limb or an eye…?"

"MY FATHER LOST HIS FOOT, I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW!"

"THEN ALL THE MORE REASON FOR YOU TO KNOW BETTER! HE WOULD BE ASHAMED IF HE COULD HEAR YOU NOW!"

There was a mixture between a gasp and a roar from Sidhwen at that. People were staring, several friends of Sidhwen or Penny respectively were trying to say their names, get them both to calm down, but to no avail.

"How DARE you presume to tell me how my father thinks of me! You, some jumped-up peasant from the North, or possibly not even that! Who knows where you come from, but you are not fit for court, that much is clear. You are a slattern and a woman who I am ashamed to even have met. The court is disgraced by the presence of one such as you in it. We all know what you did with Boromir, or tried to do. It's disgusting!"

The look on Penny's face was a picture of fury.

"I feel sorry for any male that comes near you, and no doubt that is why you are being dumped here on us – these poor elves are sick of you fawning over them! No doubt Lord Halbarad bitterly regretted having to be alone with you all that time when he first rescued you. I dread to think what you tried to do..!"

Several things happened at once at that point.

There was an explosion of outrage all round them, which was itself enough to bring Sidhwen to a grinding halt. It was also enough to tell Penny in a heartbeat that, yes, Sidhwen _had_ just implied what she thought she had implied.

She did not realise she had raised her hand, however, until she felt the firm grasp of someone else's hand on her wrist staying her movement.

Halladan, his back to Sidhwen, looked Penny straight in the face.

"No, Pen-ii," he said, his voice quiet but filled with absolute authority.

There was a moment when Penny struggled to rein in her fury, her raging anger at this stupid condescending cow in front of her, but most of all her distress that such good and noble men were being if not maligned then dragged into Sidhwen's tirade of abuse.

Halladan kept his gaze fixed on Penny all the while, never letting go of her wrist, as if silently willing her to calm down. Penny was herself too wound up to notice, but he was breathing hard through his nose and his eyes were ablaze.

That constant pressure of his hold on her arm helped her, though: it was a focus, a means by which she got the strength to will herself to stay quiet. It was firm enough to stop her, but not so hard as to hurt her. It told her he was preventing her from going too far, but he was also on her side. She took deep breaths and gradually was able to look back at Sidhwen with a confident, defiant air.

Sidhwen, however, did not know when to shut up.

"Ah, I see. You would hit me, would you? And there we see her true colours showing themselves at last…"

Halladan, still not letting go of Penny's wrist, turned his head.

"Go away." His voice was cold and harsh with undisguised rage and his glare furious. "Now."

Sidhwen swallowed, blinked, swallowed some more, and tried to look unconcerned as if for a moment she would defy him.

"I _said_…" Halladan growled slowly.

And she was gone, walking as fast as was decent, with her gaggle of friends round her clucking and bleating and worrying if she was alright and exhorting her not to burst into tears, but to 'stay strong, Sidhwen dear, stay strong'.

For a moment there was complete silence, and when Penny finally spoke her voice sounded rather small.

"You… can let go of my wrist now, Halladan."


	32. Repercussions

**Chapter 32** - _"Repercussions"_

Halladan slowly let go of her wrist and, just as slowly, Penny lowered her arm. Her gaze was focused somewhere on a pure white flagstone in front of her. She could feel tears pricking her eyes, but whether out of anger, frustration, over Hiluin and his poor wife, or simply because she had just made a complete spectacle of herself, she was not entirely sure.

Probably a combination of all four, if she were honest.

The last few minutes seemed surreal, like a dream, as if they had never happened. Yet the angry murmurs around her and the furious Dunadan standing next to her let Penny know it had been all too real.

"I am sorry," she said quietly to no one in particular, though perhaps mostly to Halladan standing right beside her still. "I am sorry. I should not have… Stupid and childish of me to react to her that way. What must you think of me?"

"Do not apologise. Never apologise for speaking the truth or defending it."

She glanced at Halladan, and though it was clear he was still furious when he looked at her, there was almost the hint of a smile… or did she imagine it?

"Indeed, you were sorely provoked," Erestor said. "I would be the first to point out that it might have been more politic had you kept your tongue, perhaps…"

"Oh, come now, Erestor!" Arvain was making no attempt to hide his anger. "You heard what that idiotic girl said! It was outrageous!"

"I was about to say exactly that," Erestor responded calmly. "What Lady Sidhwen said just now was beyond the bounds of decency. She had no right and I commend your words, Pen-ii," he continued, "But I cannot pretend that the manner in which you expressed yourself was the most appropriate one you could have chosen, that is all."

Around them people were slowly moving into the Hall for lunch, though few had much of an appetite after the news of Hiluin. Those nearest to them stared as surreptitiously as they dared at Penny as they passed by. While many would come to agree that Sidhwen had long had it coming and that Penny had been sorely tried by Sidhwen's carping, Penny had not behaved in a manner befitting a lady of the royal court – on that there was no disagreement whatsoever.

For now, though, Penny felt some comfort from her friends' words. Looking round at the others, she could see how angry many were from their tight jaws and glaring eyes, but it was not directed at her. Arvain caught her glance and gave her a smile.

"You told her what many have long thought, Pen-ii."

"Do not encourage her, Arvain." Erestor's tone was lighter than might have been expected as he said this.

"Anyone who has had to face battle would have been proud to hear you speak as you just did." Faelon seemed to speak for many there, as there were murmurs of agreement, from Halladan in particular. "It needed to be said. If you had not, then I would have done so myself. Though perhaps," he added with an amused expression, "not quite so forcefully or publicly."

Meresel seemed at something of a loss. She was clearly shocked by Penny's outburst but also agreed Sidhwen had gone beyond mere bitchiness.

"Shall we go in for lunch?" she suggested tentatively.

Penny shook her head. "I am not hungry. You go. I shall…" She trailed off, not at all sure of what to do with herself.

Eleniel stepped up to her, shaking her head with a soft smile.

"Ah, Pen-ii, Pen-ii! Did I not tell you to not let her rile you?"

"Even Meresel felt her comments were unacceptable, Eleniel."

Meresel looked even more uncomfortable at the idea her initial comments may have been a trigger for Penny's outburst.

"True." Eleniel looked after the still retreating figure of Sidhwen now some way in the distance. "She is so very young and spoiled."

"I think the general consensus is that her father over-indulged her to make up for losing her mother so young," Meresel said. "It has not served her well."

"No indeed," Mireth said, with some feeling. "She has a sharp tongue and an ability to see the worst in a situation. I pity the man she marries."

"Oh, but I thought that was to be Arvain, was it not?" Celebdor said quickly, with a grin.

"_What!_" Arvain looked appalled and everyone, even Penny, burst out laughing, some of the tension and mood broken at last.

The others went into lunch, but Penny had not been lying when she said she had no appetite. She dreaded to think how her outburst would be viewed by the court once word spread, let alone how Aragorn would react. One by one her friends hugged or kissed her, telling her not to be concerned, that she had spoken rightly if in the wrong manner, and that was a very good point in her favour since Sidhwen had been entirely in the wrong. Faelon came and gave her shoulder a squeeze, telling her not to worry and he would speak to the King in her defence if needs be, but the very fact that he felt he needed to say that only made Penny worry all the more. Meresel said nothing, but held her hand for a moment and smiled a little awkwardly, still not quite sure how to react to it all. Arvain went to the Hall, offering to bring some food out to her, but she thanked him and said there was no need.

Halladan hesitated, though. He turned back to her as the others slowly made their way into lunch.

"Erestor is right, you know. It was not the wisest of actions."

"I know." Yet again 'open mouth, insert foot Penny' had reared its ugly head, she thought to herself. She sighed. "Lady Sidhwen will be worse than ever now."

"Lady," (Halladan's tone as he said the word made it very clear he considered her to be anything but), "Sidhwen's opinion is worth less than nothing. She proved that just now, not that any proof was needed." He spoke with a ferocity that surprised her.

There was a pause and then he gestured towards the steps to the Hall.

"Are you sure you do not wish to join us, even if you do not eat..?"

She shook her head.

"Well, if you will not come in, then I shall keep you company."

"No, but you must eat…"

He waved his hand.

"In truth I have no appetite either. Not after hearing about …" His face grew grim for a few moments. Then he roused himself and forced a smile. "But enough of such things. Where shall we wander?"

They did not wander terribly far in the end, since Halladan was beginning to slow and limp, having been on his leg all morning. So they sat at the embrasure at the far end of the courtyard and at the top of the huge cliff that looked out over the Pelennor. They chatted quietly about nothing terribly important, and soon he had made her forget the incident with Sidhwen had ever happened, at least for a little while.

She was called for after lunch, however - first by Arwen and then by Aragorn.

Arwen listened, head bowed as Penny explained what had happened and was backed up by Eleniel, Mireth and Meresel. Apparently Sidhwen had already been seen by the Queen, saying that Penny had insulted her and her family, so if she had lost her temper it was not without provocation. Arwen made it clear she felt this was utter nonsense and while she could not approve of Penny's outburst, she understood it completely.

Aragorn was a slightly different matter. Gandalf and Elrond were with him as those who knew Penny well, and Faramir as his Steward. The meeting was kept informal, but Penny was left in no doubt that such an outburst was not to be tolerated, that Sidhwen was a lady of honour and good family and, for all her many faults, had to be treated with some respect.

"If you had heard what she said …"

"I am well aware of what she said, Pen-ii. I had a blow-by-blow account from Erestor and Faelon. Both of whom defended you admirably, might I add."

"Lady Sidhwen has always been a little…" Faramir was clearly searching for a diplomatic way of putting it. "Highly strung, shall we say? It is best not to take too much notice of what she says."

Gandalf insisted on walking her to the door, and as he did so she heard him chuckle.

"'Female dog,' Pen-ii? Tsk, tsk. Of course, I should perhaps point out that such a term, while not an insult in Sindarin, is a very great one in Westron. Just a word of caution."

Penny could not tell if he was telling her off or providing her with possible ammunition for the future.

"For what it is worth, your spirited defence of warriors, marred or whole, has been noted and praised by several, including all here in this room… Though I do not doubt Elrond would prefer I did not tell you that…"

Penny looked at him in some surprise and confusion.

"Oh, I think he worries you might see it as encouragement to have a second bout with this Lady Sidhwen, but I know you better than that. You would not incur the wrath of a King, a wizard, several warrior elves and Dunedain, would you, Pen-ii?" He grinned as Penny blinked at him. "No, of course not."

She was surprised to find Arvain, Halladan and Faelon waiting for her outside in the courtyard. As she greeted them, Faelon stepped forward to her and asked if she would like to join them for a ride outside the city.

"Just for an hour or two, for a change of scene," he said, breezily enough.

Penny thanked them and said she would like nothing better.

She followed them down to the Sixth Circle and to the stables beside the Houses of Healing to find four horses saddled and ready, including the mare Penny had ridden all the way from Imladris.

There was no hint of where they were going, only that they seemed impatient to be off. The three men were smiling and chatting, but there was a mood of quiet seriousness and resolute determination about them that Penny could not quite fathom.

She was glad to be on a horse once more and to be leaving the city, though. She had not looked forward to spending the afternoon wondering if she was likely to bump into Sidhwen or any of her cronies any time soon.

The four made their way down through the levels and out onto the Pelennor. Once out of the gates, they turned right and slowly headed south along the main road for a good mile or so. The moment they turned south Penny briefly wondered if she could guess where they might be headed. It made her wary to ask where they might be going for fear of the answer. At the same time, if they were not heading there, then she wondered if she might finally find the courage to ask if they could take her to it.

However, after they turned down a small track, rode through some trees and then broke through into the sunlight once more, she was left in no doubt. Ahead there were a series of low mounds, many with standards beside them and surrounded by stones, ditches or spears.

If she had been walking, she would have faltered, perhaps slowed to a halt, but her mare kept a measured pace all the while.

Faelon slowed his horse and came alongside her.

"Legolas had a word with me," Faelon explained quietly. "He guessed you were perhaps finding it difficult to know how to ask this of us or even if you should do so."

Penny nodded slowly but could not find any words. She looked at Faelon who smiled gently.

Arvain and Halladan had fallen silent, she noted.

Soon enough they reached the meadow in which the low, large grassy humps were situated. They halted, and for a moment no one moved. Penny was not sure if she should say something or wait for them to take the lead, but none of the men showed any indication of doing anything at all. So at last Penny slowly dismounted and took a few steps towards the mounds.

They were of varying sizes. She could make out the standards of Gondor flying next to several; one or two had second, smaller standards she now knew to be that for the city of Dol Amroth. One large mound had a standard above it with a white horse on a green background, and Penny knew that the many from Rohan who had fallen on the Pelennor lay there.

But it was the smallest, nearest mound that drew her eye.

Spears marked the east and west, and the western spear bore the king's standard, a smaller copy of the one Arwen had made that Halbarad himself had carried and then Arvain after him: that of the royal line, of the Dunedain.

She glanced behind her to see Faelon and Arvain had now also dismounted but Halladan remained on his horse, his face unreadable, set like granite. Faelon and Arvain started towards her, but she stopped them without really knowing why.

"No… Let me go alone."

This was a private moment, but also she did not want them to feel obliged to do something that might cause them distress, Arvain in particular, or that was perhaps not their custom.

It took no time to reach it. She had no idea what she was meant to do, what was expected of her, if anything. The mound was built quite high, in that it was no mere bump on the ground, but deliberately raised to the height of a few feet, but it was not terribly wide compared to the others. Only seven had fallen from the Dunedain, including Halbarad and Hirvell, and only three of those were buried here.

'Only.'

Penny berated herself.

So here he was. The man who had rescued her, become her friend and, for so brief a time, become her rock. Here, in the earth right next to her… and his son was not even with him but miles away in some cold spot next to just about the worst place in Arda.

She had to do _something_, make _some_ gesture, however futile and redundant.

She glanced about her and saw spots of colour in the meadow grass. No more than weeds, she did not doubt, but no matter. She spent a few minutes picking a bunch of the prettiest she could find. Then coming back to the mound, she crouched down, placing the flowers on the side of the mound and, almost without realising she was doing so, laid her hand on the earth beside them.

How long she stayed like that, one hand resting on the mound, her head bowed as she wept silently, she had no idea, but after some time she felt a gentle hand press on her shoulder. She looked up to see Faelon smiling sadly down on her.

"Come," he said quietly. "It is time we left the dead to their rest."

She nodded, wiping her face with her hand and getting to her feet.

"We felt… _they_ felt," he said glancing back at the two brothers, one standing, one still astride his horse and both watching her in silence, "you had a right to be shown this place, to come and say your farewell as you saw fit."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"No, thank _you_. It is not our custom," he indicated the flowers, "but the gesture means much. And after your spirited defence of us all today, well… I am glad to bring you here. He would have wanted it. He would have been proud of what you said today."

She forced a smile. "Do not say things like that, Faelon, you will make me cry once more."

He managed a half-hearted chuckle.

They walked slowly back to the horses.

Arvain was smiling sadly at her, his face looking more drawn than she had ever seen it, but that was perhaps to be expected. He merely nodded once as their eyes met and she understood: it was his way of thanking her the way Faelon had just done, even if he was, for once, unable to find his voice.

Halladan had not moved in all this time. His face was dark and sombre. As Penny moved past him to her horse, he said her name. She looked up at him, and the depth of sorrow and grief in his face nearly broke her heart.

"He would have been proud to see you honour him so," he said quietly, his voice thick and gravely with emotion.

"It is the very least I could do for one as noble and kind as he," she replied. "I only wish I could do more."

And she meant it.

At first the journey back to the city was subdued if not completely silent for the most part. Faelon would on occasion point out a landmark or building to Penny, but otherwise she had only the countryside to look at and the presence of three burdened men to remind her of where she had just been. She was lost in her own thoughts also, so she would have been in no mood for conversation. She was grateful, though, that they had taken her, and glad that it had been them who had done so, these men who had known and loved Halbarad so well, and not anyone else.

After some time, however, when they were about halfway back to the city, Faelon made a point of telling a few stories of Halbarad, the man he had known since childhood. He and Halbarad were of the same generation, had fought side by side on many occasions, and both their families were close. Faelon soon had Arvain laughing out loud with various memories, prompting Arvain to add a few of his own. Halladan was still quiet, but smiling broadly or shaking his head now and then at some tale or other. By the time they made it all the way back up to the Sixth Circle, the mood was quite different from when they had left the graves.

As they dismounted and began undoing fastenings on saddles and bridles before handing the horses over to the stable lads, Penny found she and Halladan were standing practically side by side. She paused before lifting off her saddle.

"Halladan?"

"Yes?" He glanced up as he undid a bridle fastening on his horse.

"Thank you. This has meant a lot to me."

He said nothing, smiled thinly but sincerely, and then focused back on the bridle.

That evening Penny made a point of staying outside in the courtyard, away from the general company. Even so she had a couple of people come up to her and say they had heard what she had said in defence of Hiluin and soldiers in general and that they were glad. Sam was particularly insistent on this point.

"I think it is a liberty, and no mistake. I might not have fought in any great battle to speak of, though we did have that moment on Amon Sûl that I will not forget in a hurry and them orcs in Moria too, but to speak so ill of those who went through so much… Why it makes my blood boil, it truly does!"

He was not the only one to feel that way.

On the other side of the coin, there were the many, perhaps more, who raised an eyebrow or two at Penny's manner of going about it. Clearly she was a woman who lacked either self-control or a sense of decorum. Was she really the sort wanted in the royal court? Very possibly not, if that sort of outburst was to be a regular occurrence. There were enough looks, whispering, pointing and muttering for Penny to realise that if she did indeed stay on in Gondor, her actions had certainly made sure that life would be very difficult for her once the elves and Dunedain had left. Not only that, but she would have to share a city, indeed be part of the same small group of nobles, as Sidhwen, Sidhwen's family and Sidhwen's friends. For all the support Penny had for her sentiment, her behaviour had thrown up more problems than it solved.

Sidhwen was conspicuous by her absence that evening, and her entourage were particularly quiet, sulking in dark corners for most of the evening and looking rather put out. Sidhwen had been dealt with most courteously by the King and Queen, as was to be expected given the grace and nobility of the two, but whispering was rife as to what had gone on behind closed doors.

The King had been 'somewhat cool' in his manner to her, asking rather harshly if it was true she had declared Hiluin a coward for being affected by war. It was added, on good authority, that Sidhwen's father had been there with her, his gaze furious and his cheeks flushed with shame to hear his daughter had been so cavalier about a soldier's plight and so insulting to a guest of the realm and a personal friend of the Queen. The Queen, it was said, had taken Sidhwen's father aside and gently but firmly suggested he might like to take Sidhwen to visit family in Lebennin for a few days or at least until the royal entourage left with King Eomer to travel to Rohan and, no, Lady Sidhwen would not be accompanying her on that little sojourn away.

It was clear, then, that Sidhwen was out of favour with the court. Apparently she was packing her bags even as Penny sat down to dinner.

However, Penny took no joy from this knowledge, since she could guess easily enough it would only serve to make Sidhwen and her supporters loathe Penny all the more. It made the prospect of being 'gently persuaded' to stay in Minas Tirith even less appealing that it already was.

The next day Meresel had insisted Penny, Eleniel and Mireth join her and her two boys as she went to visit her sister on the Pelennor. They walked, since it was no more than a mile from the city, if not a little less. Her boys were five and three and complained of being tired after a little while. Eleniel, Penny and Mireth sang them songs, took turns in carrying them both, and pointed out wildlife and flowers, asking their local names, to keep them entertained, and the time passed quickly enough.

Meresel's sister and her husband owned a large orchard, much of which had been decimated by random acts of orcish vandalism – mainly involving setting fire to some trees and chopping great big chunks out of others. There were several people in the fields helping them to clear the way for new trees once saplings could be grown, and Penny recognised one or two elves and a Dunadan amongst them.

They spent the day there, having a picnic out on the meadow in front of the small cottage, and only came back in the late afternoon.

Again, Penny was glad to be out of the city once more and it made the return to the stone streets that much more oppressive. That familiarity was beginning to take its toll on her: it was making her feel slightly homesick for the first time in a long time, and that very familiarity was also throwing the differences of her new life into a sharper relief than ever.

That evening she still felt a little uncomfortable dodging the black looks from Sidhwen's friends as she accepted dances from various Gondorian lords, elves or Dunedain. The word was Hiluin's wife was still gravely ill and Hiluin had not spoken one word since the incident. Penny was not the only one upset to hear this.

She came outside to find Halladan was at some distance from the Hall, but Arvain and Faelon were chatting quietly with Celeborn.

"Ah, Pen-ii," Celeborn smiled as she came towards them. "Taking some air?"

"Something like that, my lord."

"Have you heard? Lady Sidhwen left the city this morning." Arvain looked faintly relieved.

"Yes, I had heard." Penny did not sound overly thrilled.

They chatted for a little while, and then Celeborn made his apologies, saying he should probably head back inside and be sociable. Arvain said he would join him since Penny was not in the mood for dancing, but Faelon had just lit his pipe and so kept Penny company.

They chatted of this and that, Faelon asking about her day and the like. Halladan was just visible, walking by himself at the far end of the courtyard, seemingly deep in his own thoughts. Faelon fell into silence, taking contemplative pulls at his pipe every now and then while Penny watched Halladan slowly pace to and fro in the distance.

"Faelon?"

"Hmm?"

"I realise… I mean I know Halladan's loss was a hard one, but I find it difficult to understand why he and Arvain are so very different. Halladan's grief seems so much deeper."

Faelon looked at her, his eyes sharp. "You have not asked him?"

"I would not dare. I suspect it is a subject he would rather never discuss."

"It is indeed. I am still surprised the story has not filtered through to you, or even that Arvain had not mentioned it."

"Arvain nearly said something to me once, but what it might have been I have no idea."

Faelon took his pipe away from his mouth and gave a heavy sigh. He stared at the flagstones in front of him for a moment or two.

"Halbarad's death was hard for the three of them, indeed for all of us who knew him well. He was a fine and noble man, a credit to his race, a Dunadan through and through. Halladan and Arvain were there when he was injured; Arvain bore the standard and Halladan stood over his father, defending him to the last. All three were there when he died, surrounded by us, his kin. The three were united in grief – they had lost much, but they had each other."

Faelon paused and looked straight ahead of him.

"And then Halladan and Arvain lost Hirvell too."

Penny nodded. She had not expected to hear about Halbarad as well. She was struck dumb by emotion.

"Halladan…," Faelon was looking at her now, "Halladan saw Hirvell die."

Penny was confused for a moment. Faelon had just said all three brothers had seen Halbarad die, so how would Hirvell be any different? Then, as Faelon said nothing, waiting for her to perhaps work it out for herself, the penny dropped and she gasped.

Halbarad had been injured, died slowly defended by those who had loved him.

Hirvell had been brutally and almost instantly killed in the heat of battle.

She looked back across the courtyard at the figure of Halladan still walking slowly in the dark.

She had no words…

"I was not near them when Hirvell fell, and since Halladan has never spoken of it even to Arvain as far as I know, I do not know exactly what happened, though I and others can surmise much. All I know is that as the hordes ran screaming, chased in a rout, Halladan lay injured and Hirvell dead beside him." He paused once more and his voice became desperately quiet. "We knew it was a Dunadan, but it was only because Halladan had seen him killed that we knew it was his brother."

'I did not need to hear that!' Penny was screaming at herself inside her head, 'I did NOT need to hear that! Why the hell could I not keep my big mouth shut?'

"Halladan insisted Arvain not see his brother like that." Faelon was getting quieter, his tone grimmer with every word. "I am not sure Arvain has ever quite got over it, ever quite forgiven him, but if Halladan had not insisted, then I would have done."

Penny could almost imagine it in her mind's eye: Arvain roaring, raging, desperate to see what was left of Hirvell but held back and fighting those who held him, and Halladan injured, bleeding and white with shock.

She wished she had never asked.

The next day was market day once more, and that was something that would help Penny take her mind off things for a few hours. Since days out seemed to help, it had been decided that she and a few others would go for a ride afterwards if the weather stayed fine.

She eagerly joined the others at breakfast, looking forward to the day and to what she might buy. She had borrowed a basket from Milves's infamous store cupboard under the stairs in their lodgings, and no sooner was breakfast done than she eagerly marched off down the hill with Lindir, Arvain, Halladan, Mireth, Celebdor and Eleniel.

Much like the previous week, they soon became slightly separated and strung out as each took an interest in particular things that had caught their eye. Celebdor and Mireth in particular seemed to be fond of wandering off hand in hand. Penny had not really come to any decision about the sort of thing she should be thinking of buying. It all depended on how much things were and how much she had. If she could only afford food, then she might consider buying something that might last a while like dried apricots, but she really hoped she had enough to buy something truly Gondorian that would serve as a keepsake if she left Gondor as she still hoped she might. That would be expensive, though.

"Ah, it is so hard to choose," she muttered, pouring over some very finely worked bits of leather, wondering if a small hair piece, a simple strip of leather with a pointed stick through it, might be both cheap and suitably Gondorian.

"There is something in particular you wanted?" Halladan asked. "Please, allow me…" His hand moved to his sword belt and the small pouch hanging from it.

"No, no." She smiled. "No, I intend to buy something for myself. I have a little coin."

And she explained the situation of how she had come by it.

"The problem is," she continued, "I have no idea how much I have. I would like to be able to buy some material for a dress or even a piece of craftwork, but I do not know if I have enough for such a thing." She reached into the basket and produced a small leather pouch, similar to Halladan's though not nearly as old or worn. She pulled at the neck and poured out a few gold coins into her palm. "See? Is this enough for a bolt of cloth or just a few apples?"

She was talking loudly and the leather merchant at the stall, seeing the coins, had suddenly got very animated and was now waving various expensive items at her encouragingly.

"Pen-ii!" Halladan quickly closed her palm, urging her to quickly put the money back in the pouch. He laughed. "Yes, I think you have more than enough there to buy a bolt of cloth. Perhaps even two."

"I do!" She beamed, delighted.

"Yes, indeed. How many of those do you have?"

"Oh, only five."

Halladan raised his eyebrows. "Five? Just how many of these vases and plates of yours did they take to market?"

"Not that many. Why…? Oh." She had wondered if that would turn out to be the case. "They gave me far above the going rate, did they? That would not surprise me. It is very kind of them, but I feel rather dishonest…"

"Oh, I think if they gave you above the rate it would only have been by a small amount," Halladan reassured her. "Elvish work sells at a pretty price, I can assure you. It is very sought after, and they quite deliberately do not sell many items at a time."

"Mine was hardly of the same standard."

"Well, they clearly thought well enough of it to give you a fair price," Halladan said pointing to the basket where Penny had replaced the pouch. "Anyway, the point is that you can buy whatever item you had in mind without worrying, I think. Though if it was really very expensive…"

"No, only a small keepsake or one piece of material."

"There is no need, though, Pen-ii. I would be happy to buy something if you wished for it. Better you save your money for when you might truly need it."

"I thank you, Halladan, but no, this is… It is something I have to do, I want to do. It probably seems strange to you, but I am used to… well, I am used to fending for myself. I earned my own keep, lived by myself, did my own shopping. It has felt very strange for me to rely on others all this time."

Halladan was looking at her curiously, though he smiled at her also. He understood, and yet it was a rather alien idea to him – a woman of Penny's age voluntarily living by herself… Such a thing was unheard of in his society.

"Very well, if it means that much to you." He paused. "But I insist on buying you some peaches, though. You enjoyed them so very much last week."

He was deaf to Penny's protests.

In the meantime she had to decide what she would buy, and even when some of the sellers were beginning to close up their stalls, she still had not made her decision. They had munched at fresh bread and fruit as they had wandered round the market and shops, and had decided they would not need lunch up at the halls.

They were slowly making their way through the market on their way to the stables on the far side of the First Circle. Just as they left the market place and started down the main street, Penny decided that, no, she would have that piece of fine red cloth she had been considering (and which Eleniel had agreed would suit her well), after all. She knew the amount to ask for and how to say it in Westron, since she had got that close to buying it an hour before that Eleniel had been coaching her in the necessary phrases.

"I will be right back," she said hurriedly to Lindir, explaining where she was going.

The stall with the bolts of cloths was on the other side of the market square, set up outside the draper's shop. It was easily visible from where they were since there was, near enough, a clear aisle all the way to it. Penny was only a few yards from it when she had to make way for a drayman coming past with several barrels. She stood to one side, between two stalls and near to the opening to a side alley.

Then, as the drayman passed her and just as Penny made to step out once more, she felt a sharp pull on the back of her skirts that made her stumble backwards into the mouth of the alley. Before she knew what was happening, and before she could think to shout out, a hand clamped over her mouth, an arm grabbed her round the waist and she was yanked backwards down the alley and out of public view.

The arm round her waist loosened its grip and slid upwards till it was pinned across her upper chest, one hand at her neck.

A voice hissed in Westron in her ear. "Scream, and I will cut you."

She could feel the blade against her throat and did not need to guess what had just been said. Her mind was going in a thousand different directions at once, and at the same time she seemed frozen with fear.

The man was dragging her backwards, further down the alley which was very narrow and dark, and she was stumbling with him, aware only of his clammy hand on her mouth and the cold metal at her throat.

Her heart was thumping like mad.

She felt herself pulled sideways into an even danker and darker alleyway, and here he spun her round and pushed her up against the wall with one hand, the knife blade in his other hand glinting madly.

"Give me your money," he snarled.

Penny's throat was dry and she was so frightened she was in no fit state to try and translate from Westron. Her breathing was erratic, and all she could focus on was the knife and the look in this man's eye.

'Please, please, _please_, let him just want my money and nothing else!'

He made a grab for the basket, swapping the knife from one hand to the other to do so, and something in that action made Penny get a surge of foolish courage from somewhere.

She refused to let go.

"No!"

Instead of just stabbing her, the man pulled at the basket all the harder, and there was a tussle.

"Let go, you bastard!" she yelled, reverting to her native tongue without even realising it. "NO! LET GO! LET… _GO!_"

The man, still struggling with her, tried to jam his knife into his belt so he could use two hands on the handle, but it slipped out of his hand and onto the cobbles instead. Now desperate, the man, keeping one hand on the basket's handle, shoved the other hand into the basket. Penny tried to scrabble at his wrist, acting on every stupid instinct in her body, but he pulled the money purse out nonetheless, wrenching the basket away from her at last with a snarl and then smacked her round the head with it.

She screamed as she raised her hands to protect herself and, as the basket clattered to the floor, she wondered if this was it and she was going to be beaten to death at the hands of some stinking mugger deep in the dank alleyways of Gondor.

But a second blow never came.

* * *

Many thanks for the response the last chapter generated, I appreciate the amount of people who took time out to read it, let alone review. 

And before some of you self-combust over the chapter ending: rest assured the next chapter will be posted shortly. ;)


	33. Fear and Loathing in Minas Tirith

My sincere thanks to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter. I promised you all a quick update (hence my risking the cliffie at the end of the previous one), and here it is.

Warning for this chapter: contains angst that some may find distressing.

**

* * *

Chapter 33** – _"Fear and Loathing in Minas Tirith"_

Mireth and Celebdor had walked on ahead, but Eleniel had stopped to look at some pottery, discussing its merits (or otherwise) with Lindir. Halladan was keeping half an eye on Penny while listening to Arvain relating a rather detailed joke he had heard the previous night. He glanced back across the market place just in time to see Penny duck out of the way of the drayman. Arvain came to the punchline, Halladan turned to him for a moment, grinning and chuckled heartily, and then glanced back across the square.

There was no sign of Penny anywhere.

Halladan immediately straightened himself, looking more keenly into the crowd. Perhaps it was his Dunadan blood, or simply his long years as a ranger and warrior, but his instincts instantly told him something was not right.

"Arvain? Can you see Pen-ii anywhere?"

Arvain did not even need to look at his brother's concerned face to immediately scan the ever thinning crowds in the square – he had heard the note of alarm in his brother's voice and knew that tone too well not to act on it instantly. Lindir had also heard him and turned around to them both, looking worried, if only because of the way they were acting.

"She cannot have gone far, Halladan," Arvain was saying even as he realised that he also could see no trace of her.

But Halladan was not listening. He was already moving as quickly as he could back into the market place, down to the spot where he had last seen her. Arvain, again picking up his brother's mood, exchanged a meaningful glance with Lindir and hurried after his brother.

"What is it, Lindir? What has happened?"

"Oh, nothing, Eleniel. Pen-ii has just wandered off somewhere. We will find her, do not fear." Lindir tried to sound as breezy and unconcerned as possible. "Go and catch up Mireth and Celebdor. We will meet you at the stables."

So saying, Lindir followed the brothers into the throng.

Halladan was about level with the entrance to the alleyway, the spot where he had last seen Penny, and Arvain had overtaken him, and had begun jogging up to the draper's stall, looking left and right as he did so.

"NO! LET GO! LET…_ GO!_"

Halladan heard it above the general hubbub, if only because he was more or less in front of the alleyway entrance, it was a voice he knew, Penny was shouting and doing so in English. Lindir had also caught it with his sensitive elvish hearing, even though he was a little way behind him. Halladan stopped, looking to his left in the direction it had come from, yelling for his brother as he did so. He saw the alleyway entrance and started towards it as Arvain rejoined him and Lindir hurried to catch them up.

"AAAIIIIIII!"

If there was moment of shock amongst the three, it was barely noticeable.

Instantly, Halladan was off at the nearest he could achieve to a run. It was more of a lollop, admittedly, with his bad leg barely making contact with the ground and his stick held in his hand more like a weapon than a support, but he only had a relatively short distance to cover. Arvain was right behind him and Lindir was running, shoving his way through the crowd to follow them. Several Gondorians in the street had heard the scream as well and were looking alarmed. Two men followed Arvain down the alleyway, Lindir pushing past them as they did so, and several others hurried across the square to the gate to fetch soldiers in case they were needed.

Halladan was going at a fair pace for someone with a gammy leg, but Arvain still overtook him and reached the side alley just one step ahead of him, only to be half winded as a man clasping Penny's money sack crashed into him, throwing him up against the opposite wall. In the same moment Arvain glanced up the side alley to see Penny in an untidy heap on the floor, arms wrapped around her head. He yelled out her name even as he hit the wall, while at the same time there was a roar from his right. Acting on pure instinct, he ducked just as Halladan's stick came whistling past his ear, landing square on the mugger's temple.

The man was knocked reeling to the floor limbs flailing, cursing loudly and blood pouring from his head.

Halladan, glancing to his right and down the side alley, could make out Penny in an untidy heap on the floor, cowering, her arms still over her head.

"PEN-II!"

He hurriedly limped his way the few feet down the alley to reach her.

"Pen-ii!"

She was uncurling her arms, looking round her in shock.

"Halladan?"

He held out a hand, and she accepted it, shakily getting to her feet.

"Are you hurt? Did he harm you?"

"N-no."

She blinked, bewildered, clearly overwhelmed. She looked on the verge of collapsing into tears and near threw herself at him, choking back a sob, clutching onto him. He held her, his face showing the mixture of emotions running though him right now, not least of which were fury, concern and a good amount of self-reproach.

Back in the main alleyway Lindir had arrived, his eyes blazing with rage and, as Arvain caught his breath, Lindir yanked the thief unceremoniously to his feet. The man stumbled slightly, one hand clutching his head and blood trickling out from between his fingers. Lindir quickly had the man's other arm behind the man's back in a half-nelson, holding the man's shoulder firmly as he waited for the soldiers he knew were hurrying across the square towards them. He was snarling at the thief in Westron, saying something about it being extremely fortunate for him that Halladan had got to him first and that there were now too many witnesses around, otherwise…

The man whimpered and tried to shrink away from Lindir in fear but Lindir kept a firm grip on the man's wrist and shoulder, hard enough that likely as not he left bruises.

Halladan glanced up as Arvain came down the side alley towards him. He noticed where Arvain's gaze was directed and followed it to see the fallen knife lying on the stones. With a gasp he suddenly pulled back from Penny, holding her a little away from himself also.

"You are sure you are not injured?" He was scanning her up and down as he spoke, looking for any sign of blood in the gloom.

"No, I assure you." She was recovering her composure, quickly wiping away the tears that had fallen now the wave of relief had passed.

Arvain was now also pressing Penny and she was once again insisting she was quite unharmed, that the man had indeed scared her, but no more than that. She bent to pick up the basket and the few bits of fruit that had fallen with it.

"Let me," Arvain said quickly, staying her with a touch on her arm and crouching down to grab the basket. As he did so, he reached for the blade, examining it. He raised an eyebrow and passed it up to Halladan. He too seemed surprised.

"Blunt," Halladan said simply.

Penny unconsciously rubbed at her throat and breathed a sigh of relief. Halladan was looking at her.

"He held this at your throat!"

His eyes blazed and his voice was furious. He exchanged a glance with Arvain who got to his feet, his jaw tight.

"Bastard," Arvain snarled.

Penny looked confused, this being a new word to her, but no one seemed like they were going to translate it any time soon.

Halladan pushed past Arvain back to the alleyway.

"This yours!" he roared at the mugger, brandishing the knife by its blade.

"It is n-not sh-sharp," the man stammered. "I never m-meant to do her any…"

"AND SHE WAS MEANT TO KNOW THAT, WAS SHE?"

Halladan was incandescent. He flung the knife at the man's feet where it bounced off his boots harmlessly.

Lindir, who had not loosed his hold on the man, now shoved him face first up against the wall with a snarl. The man cried out an oath.

"What is going on here, my lords?"

One of the soldiers from the gate had arrived, a colleague only a little way behind him.

The situation was quickly explained. The man had, by his own response to Halladan, admitted his crime, though the fact that he had been caught red-handed in possession of Penny's purse would have been enough

Penny appeared in the entrance to the side alley, Arvain with her and holding the basket, his other hand resting between Penny's shoulder blades. One of the soldiers spoke to her, asking her to verify what had been said and she just nodded dumbly, not wanting to look at the man still in Lindir's grasp.

"He did not attempt to hurt you, my lady?"

"No, merely scared me and threw my basket at me. No more."

Arvain looked down at the basket in his hand, glared up at the man and took a step forward, raising the basket across his body as he did so as if he would strike the thief with it.

"WHY YOU…!"

Halladan stopped him, one hand against his brother's chest.

The thief was led away by the soldiers who, it has to be said, were none too gentle with him. The Gondorians followed on after asking if they could assist in any way. Lindir thanked them and said there was no need.

Lindir stepped forward to Penny, gently taking hold of her upper arm.

"I am fine," she said even before he could ask. She forced a smile. "Really. A little shaken, perhaps, but none the worse for that. It all happened very fast. He ran, he did not stay to hurt me – he ran." The relief in her voice was unmistakeable and all three could only imagine what she must have feared.

"This is yours, I believe." Lindir held out the purse.

She shook her head. "Would one of you carry it for me?" she asked quietly.

Halladan held out his hand for it. He took it and tied it onto his sword belt alongside his own purse.

There was a hiatus, all three males looking at Penny rather anxiously, seemingly unsure as to what to say.

"Look, I am safe, I am uninjured, and you all rushed to my aid and I cannot thank you enough…"

"No, Pen-ii," Lindir said quietly. "We should have been with you, this should never have happened."

Arvain and Halladan said nothing, but their expressions showed they were as angry with themselves as anything.

"What? No! I go shopping by myself all the time! ... I mean, I did…" She trailed off.

"She was only going a short distance, Lindir," Arvain said.

"You know as well as I there have been instances of thievery in the markets of late," Halladan replied. "For all that Aragorn has improved things, there are still some who…"

"Pen-ii?" Mireth was running down the alleyway to them, Eleniel and Celebdor behind her. "Pen-ii? What happened? We saw you all running this way, and then soldiers and a man being dragged off…"

"I am fine! Really! Halladan, Arvain and Lindir here came to my rescue. The man tried to take my money, that is all."

Mireth and Eleniel gasped, Celebdor, behind them looked dark.

The two ellith immediately started fussing over Penny, asking her umpteen questions, insisting they call off the afternoon out, that she had to go back up to their lodgings to rest, that she was no doubt in shock. Penny was looking harassed and strained.

"No, please, do not cancel our plans, I would like… But I am fine, I tell you… Eleniel, you are not listening to me…"

"I see no reason for us to change our plans if Pen-ii feels she can manage it," Lindir cut in.

"I agree," Halladan said firmly.

And before the ellith could object, the four males marched up the alleyway, bundling a grateful Penny with them.

The last thing Penny wanted was a fuss made. She was feeling shaken and not at all herself, but the idea of going up to the Citadel, where no doubt the news would be round the court within ten minutes and everyone would be asking if she was alright and getting her to go over it all again and again, was the last thing she wanted right now.

Eleniel held her hand as they walked to the stables. Mireth stopped a passing baker's boy and got him, for a coin that made his eyes stick out on stalks, to take their shopping up to the Citadel for them. She whispered something to Celebdor and hurried off with him into the market crowd. When they rejoined them all at the stables they were looking rather pleased with themselves.

Penny was subdued as her mare was brought out to her and insisted on saddling her up herself since it would, frankly, give her something else to think about.

Mireth and Eleniel were concerned, though, and much as they tried they could not help asking if Penny was sure she was well every few minutes, and whether this outing was really such a good idea, even as they rode out of the gates. None of which helped to make Penny more talkative or less subdued in the least. Not that she blamed them – they were her friends and were worried she had been in such a horrible situation. However, after they had gone no more than half a mile or so from the city, Lindir did become a little sharp with them both, which the ellith clearly felt was unnecessary and protested.

After that Penny hung back to let the ellith catch up with Celebdor and Arvain at the front.

Halladan came alongside her.

"I find a good hard gallop helps me to take my mind away from whatever may be troubling it for a while," he said quietly. "How does that sound?"

"Thank you, Halladan," Penny replied, breathing a huge sigh of relief. It sounded ideal.

Halladan turned his horse slightly, taking it off the path and onto the meadow. He called out to the others. "We are going to exercise our horses. We will catch up with you later."

"Fair enough," Celebdor responded even as Penny also turned her mare to follow Halladan's.

"But…" Eleniel started.

"We will see you later, brother!" Arvain shouted and lifted his hand.

Halladan said a word to his horse and it started off at a cracking pace.

"Pen-ii…?" Mireth said, somewhat startled. Lindir told her to not fuss.

Penny rode off into the distance after Halladan.

It was the best thing anyone could have suggested as far as Penny was concerned. No possibility of thinking or chatter, just riding flat out, fast and furious, her hair whipping back with the speed of it, the countryside thundering past her: it was glorious.

They went quite some way, not letting up the pace, dodging round copses and just thundering on and on.

After a while, Halladan slowed. He was grinning as he looked at her.

"Better?"

"Much!"

She matched his grin with her own.

They had reached a meadow that sloped gently down to a stream. Far behind them the dark, tall walls of the city loomed out of the mountainside, but Penny was trying not to think about it for the time being.

"This is a pretty spot. Can we stop?"

"Of course." Halladan replied. "It would do well to rest the horses a little anyway."

So they dismounted and wandered down to the side of the stream. Penny knelt and cupped some water in her hands, splashing her face and wiping her neck. She stared into the water. She still could not quite believe what had happened to her, but being here, surrounded by something entirely different to that dank, stinking alley, helped hugely. It was over, it was past. She was safe, and it seemed clear the man had never intended to hurt her, only scare her into giving him her money. She was fine. Really, she was FINE.

"Pen-ii?"

"What? Oh, forgive me." She forced a weak smile. "Lost in my thoughts."

He nodded. He was sitting on the grass, leaning on one hand and one knee bent with the wrist of his other arm resting on it.

"It is good to be out of the city," she continued. She glanced back in the direction of it. "And not just because of…"

His brow furrowed in concern and she decided to change the subject.

"I lived in a city."

"Indeed? Like Minas Tirith?"

"A little, but much, much bigger."

Halladan seemed surprised.

"It is strange to be surrounded by stone again after so long in the countryside. It is the first time since I arrived here…" She paused. "It is good to be out of the city, that is all."

"The city reminds you of home?"

She nodded, suddenly looking quite sad. "In many ways. I am not a 'country girl'. Stone buildings and roads… it is what I am used to, it is what I grew up with, and yet… everything is so very different. It is similar but not similar at the same time and that just makes it all the harder." She gave a rueful smile. "It is not only that, of course. There is all the aftermath of the War which is hard to get used to, and not only because I have never experienced such a thing before."

"I can understand it must be difficult for you."

They fell into silence, the only sound a bird singing in a nearby tree at the water's edge.

"It will be hard for you to stay here if the mere buildings make you feel this way," Halladan said at last.

"I do not want to stay."

She had told no one this, or not as clearly stated as this. The closest she had come to it was her conversation with Erestor over a week before.

"No?" If he was surprised he did not show it.

"No," she shook her head. "I have never liked the idea. I worried about it all the way here and now that I am here, well…" She sighed.

"Well, some like Sidhwen have not made it easy for you."

"It is not only that, Halladan. I have nothing in common with these people. I have difficulty communicating, I find their way of life incomprehensible at times… In some ways Sidhwen was right, I probably am the equivalent of a peasant to her. I certainly feel more at home with the likes of Milves than I do with her and her breed."

"Do not ever say things like that," Halladan said with feeling. "Do not compare yourself to the likes of her and consider yourself beneath her."

"I do not, I assure you. I think Milves is worth ten of Sidhwen any day."

He laughed then. "And I would agree with you wholeheartedly, Pen-ii, as would many others, I do not doubt!"

"I have more in common with elves than I do with the mortals I have met. In Rohan I was treated with hostility and suspicion, and in some ways it has occurred here in Gondor once more, though it has been more subtle. I am so very strange to them all, so very different."

"Perhaps. You are unlearned in their ways, but that is possibly no bad thing if Sidhwen is an example of what those who follow such ways come to. So do you feel you have more in common with elves than with all the mortals you have met? You have nothing in common with the Dunedain, then?" There was the hint of a smirk on his face.

"What? Oh, no! I only meant…"

He laughed. "I know, I know. And you are right – we Dunedain are a race apart from most human races. We speak Sindarin, we associate with the elves, and our lineage and heritage set us at one remove. Like you, there are times when I feel Gondor is a foreign country to me, its people also, even though it is a link to my past, and its King is my King and my kinsman."

"You are also a warrior, and you have fought here side by side with Gondorians and Rohirrim. That much you share. There are also, I do not doubt, certain aspects of society you would recognise here that are utterly strange to me… or perhaps not 'strange' so much as 'old-fashioned' where I come from."

"Ah, I see. So 'Old Fiery Pen-ii' would have been frowned upon in your society several generations before your own?"

"Yes," she replied, and then she was laughing as she asked, "He told you he called me that?"

"But of course!" He chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, I think that was the first indication we had, my brothers and I, that Father had met someone truly extraordinary. No one, but _no one_ who knew my father, or even strangers that met him unawares, would have dared speak to him in such a manner."

"Ai, do not say such things, Halladan!" She hung her head in her hands with a wince and a smile. "You have no idea how many times I apologised to him after I realised who and what he was."

Their soft laughter slowly died away and for several minutes the only sound was the trickle of the water.

"You must miss him terribly," Pen-ii said quietly at last.

"Yes." He nodded, not looking at her. "Yes, I do."

There was a pause.

"I miss my family too."

It was the first time she had said it out loud. Galadriel had referred to it, but otherwise Penny tried not to think about them too much – it hurt too much to do so. Since arriving in Minas Tirith, though, with that weird, vague sense of familiarity to the place, it had been hard to ignore.

"Even my brother."

"'Even'? You did not get on?"

"No. Never. 'Like chalk and cheese' as we would say in my tongue. We loathe each other. We can barely meet without an argument."

"You do not see your family regularly?"

"What? No!" She looked at him as if he were insane. "They would drive me crazy! I left home as soon as I could! Even then I still have my mother fussing after me and worrying…"

"Well, she is your mother. It is what mothers do, is it not?"

"Halladan, believe me, there is 'mothering' and there is 'mothering,' and my mother has no idea about when to leave well enough alone."

"Oh?" He was grinning once more, curious and strangely pleased to hear her talking about her family in this way.

"'You need to find a nice man, Penny. Ooh, I know just the chap, Penny – his mother is the second cousin of a lady I met in the fish shop last week…'"

Halladan roared with laughter.

"You think I am joking?"

"Every family has its moments."

"Even yours?"

"Oh, especially mine. Can you imagine four males trying to live under one roof? We had blazing rows on occasion. Though we always had a respect for Father. There was a line you never crossed with him, though Hirvell would often get dangerously close. Ai, he was always the hot-tempered one. Would get into towering rages over nothing. Arvain was good at needling him, and when they were younger…" He shook his head. "Arvain would just keep on at him until he would explode. He would always regret it afterwards. Would carve him something or make him some toy later to make up for it. They were always close."

"And you were not?"

"Oh, yes, yes, of course. But as the eldest… Well, it was different, that is all."

She remembered what Lindir had said about Halladan even as a young teenager seeing himself as a helper to his father, the strong one, the one who had to help look out for his kid brothers. She smiled.

"What are you smiling about?"

"It is the first time you have spoken of him to me. Hirvell, I mean." She looked at him. "I am glad."

A shadow passed over Halladan's expression, not sadness so much as a melancholy. Penny immediately regretted having pointed it out - it was the wrong thing to have done. Halladan turned away slightly, looking out somewhere to his right and toward the trees on the other side of the stream.

Penny decided to try and break the mood.

"Of course, I always wished I had a brother I could get on with," she said brightly. "You would have thought with just me, him and my mother it would have brought us closer, but no. He was always the baby, the pampered one, my mother thought he could do no wrong and he would play on it all the time…"

She faltered.

She did miss him, in spite of it all.

It was like a death. If she was indeed stuck here forever, then… was this grief? She had not thought of it in those terms before. She had only hoped she would never go home, back to a life that, frankly, for all this world's hardships and horrors, could not compare, but now… now she realised if that happened, she would never see them again.

She tried to focus on something else. The place where they were sitting was lovely. The meadow flowers, the birds in the trees…

"That is a rather pretty bird," she said. "What is it called, do you know?"

There was no reply.

"Halladan?"

She turned to him and immediately knew something was wrong.

Halladan was pale. He had been looking at the trees across the bank when he had gasped, as if it had only just then occurred to him that they seemed familiar. Then, as he glanced around him, it was as if he was seeing where they actually were for the first time: the stream, the trees, the low slope…

"We should not have come here," he murmured. He was looking worried and it was making Penny nervous.

"What is it? What is wrong?"

Halladan was swallowing hard, still looking round himself, but now also hurriedly getting to his feet.

"We need to leave," he said, his tone urgent. "Now!"

"But why?" She was getting panicky, standing as well, following his lead.

"Just…"

And then he stopped, his breathing suddenly quickening, his gaze unfocused.

"Go!" he rasped.

She just looked at him, bewildered and getting frightened.

"GO! NOW! GET TO THE HORSES!"

He had shouted, yes, but it had been less an angry order, more a desperate, urgent plea. He had stumbled and turned away from her a few steps as he had spoken too, dropping his stick as he did so.

Penny stood frozen to the spot, uncertain of what was happening or what she should do. It was all happening so quickly, and entirely out of the blue. She glanced around but could see no one near them, no approaching danger, and Halladan did not exactly seem to be behaving as if that was the problem…

Was he in pain? Was he having an attack of some kind? He was breathing hard, almost choking back sobs or so it sounded like, both hands clutching his head as if fighting some inner turmoil.

Then, suddenly, his head seemed to almost snap upright, at the same time he was turning round a little, his eyes wide with fear and alarm.

And yet there was something about him that…

"NO!" he roared, and in that next instant there was the 'schlack' of his sword being drawn. He held the pommel with both hands, looking wild, defensive, backing slightly and circling slowly. His face was fierce and furious.

Penny stared at him in horror. He was looking at something that patently was not there.

He was muttering, snarling, using words Penny had never heard before but she could guess were ones that would make Erestor's hair stand on end if she ever repeated them. She could make out 'vile' and 'evil butchers' and 'slay you like dogs' and various other things, and her heart was hammering against her ribs and she did not know whether to run like the wind or speak to him or…

No, if she ran, he might mistake her for an orc.

His voice was getting louder now, rising, more desperate, more furious.

They would never take him alive, did they hear him! Never! He would go down fighting! They would have to bleed him dry before they brought him down, just like they did to…!

And suddenly he was roaring, screaming in rage and pain, lashing out blindly at thin air.

"HIRVELL! NO! _NO!_"

If Penny had tears on her cheeks at that point she did not notice. She could not let this continue and had no idea what was the right thing to do, but she refused to just stand there and let this happen.

"Halladan!"

She was so scared she could hardly get his name out, and when he spun round to her, his sword aimed right at her, his gaze unseeing and clearly not recognising her, she had to fight every instinct in her body not to run. She was trembling as she held up one hand, hardly daring to breathe.

"Halladan? It is me… Penny… Can you hear me?"

And she knew what she was doing was probably incredibly stupid but it was all she could think of and she could _not_ do nothing.

Halladan had not advanced on her. He still held the sword high in her direction, though; was still looking at her in that horribly unfamiliar, unfocused way: suspicious, unsure…

"Halladan, whatever you can see… It is not true. It is not there."

He was still glaring at her, still not moving.

"The War is over. There is no battle. Just a meadow and flowers and… Can you hear the birds? You can hear the birds, can you not? Listen to the bird song, Halladan…"

His breathing was still ragged, but she could see him faltering slightly, his sword lowering a little.

"There can be no battle if I am here, if birds are singing. I know you can see things, but they are not true… none of it… it is past, Halladan, long past…"

He was shaking. She could see the sword was wobbling ever so slightly.

There was a horribly long pause.

Slowly the sword got lower and lower till eventually one hand fell away from it and the other still held it but with the tip of the blade now resting on the ground. All the while, he was not looking at her but instead was glancing anxiously down, left, right, brows furrowed as if trying to work out how he could hear birdsong and yet still see… still hear…

Then the sword fell, and a moment later he sank to his knees.

She had never seen a man look more broken in her life.

She took a few steps towards him, even as he sank back onto his haunches and bowed his head and brought his hands to his face. Emboldened, she slowly, gently stepped up to him, crouched down beside him and laid one hand on his shoulder.

"Halladan?"

He was still shaking, quiet sobs being wrenched from his body.

"Please," he croaked thickly, not looking up or removing his hands from his face, "Please… let me alone…"

She understood.

She got up slowly and quietly walked away, choking back her own tears. She walked up the slight slope to the horses, patting and quietening them in case they needed reassuring.

She kept glancing back at Halladan, and for a very long time he did not move. Only when at last she noticed he had straightened and was kneeling upright, staring straight ahead at nothing did she risk making her presence known once more.

"Halladan?"

Even as she took a few steps down the slope towards him, she could see him start as if roused from a reverie, clear his throat, and hurriedly get to his feet, making a bit of a show of brushing bits of loose grass from his clothes as if nothing untoward had happened at all.

It was as he reached for his stick that he noticed the sword: out of its scabbard and still lying on the grass slightly in front of him. He stared at it in shock for several moments then bent down to pick it up, his brow furrowed in confusion.

He looked back at Penny even as she neared him. The expression on his face made it clear he was horrified, that he had little memory of what had occurred and could only guess what might have actually happened. He seemed at a loss for words.

"I-I… Pen-ii, I…"

"Nothing happened," she said quickly. "You did not draw your sword on me."

He said nothing, just kept staring at her, appalled.

"You already had your sword drawn…"

"Do not lie to me, Pen-ii!"

"I am not! I swear to you!"

He looked keenly at her for a moment, as if gauging the truth of what she was saying.

"Did I threaten you?"

"N-no," she said uncertainly.

"Did I recognise you? Lower my sword instantly?"

"Of course."

There was a beat.

"Now I know you are lying. I can see it in your face."

A spasm seemed to twist his face, though whether of rage or distress she could not tell. Perhaps it was both.

"I thought I had told you to get to the horses," he said brusquely. He suddenly bent to get his stick as he spoke, not even looking at her but instead turning to walk up the slope to his stallion.

That was it! That was all he was going to say!

Penny did not for a moment think she had been the one to pull him out of whatever flashback he had been having. It may be some of her words had got through to him, helped a little, though just as possibly not and no doubt he would have come out of it at pretty much the same time anyway, but even so…!

She followed him back up the slope. He was rummaging in a sac that hung off his saddle, pulling out a piece of cloth and carefully wiping the blade clean before sheathing it.

"Halladan…"

He turned his head round sharply to look at her at last. The mask was up, his expression determined.

"I do not want to talk about it, is that clear?"

"But…!"

"No!"

"Halladan!" She was getting angry now, and she could see he was too, but bugger that, this was serious. "What happened just now…"

"You never listen, do you, Pen-ii!"

"Not when it is something as serious as this, no, Halladan, I do not!"

He had his hands resting on the saddle, almost as if he had half a mind to just get on the horse and ride back to the city, forget any of it had happened.

"Pen-ii," he insisted through gritted teeth, "I would rather we never mentioned this again…"

No bloody way, José! Not on your life!

"How often has this happened?"

Halladan seemed completely taken aback by the question. He blinked at her, confused.

"I take it this is not the first time, given you realised what was coming, that you tried to if not warn me then get me out of the way, yes?"

"How did you…?"

"Oh, please, Halladan, I am not a complete fool! You are quiet, withdrawn, drinking hard, even your brother is concerned for you… Oh, do not look so surprised, I am sure he must have said something to you before now!"

"Arvain worries over much." Halladan's voice was quiet and strained. He looked away from her.

"And he has every right to worry, Halladan! Not only that but he loves you dearly. He has lost one brother. I am sure he has no desire to lose a second."

"Pen-ii…"

Halladan's attention seemed entirely focused on the saddle, and his tone made it clear he did not want to continue this conversation any further.

"Do you sleep at night?"

"What!"

"Do you sleep? Are you able to sleep? These…" she struggled to find a Sindarin expression that would fit, "these… waking dreams, where you see the battles you fought… Do they disturb your sleep as well?"

Halladan was staring at her open mouthed. She just looked back at him sadly.

"Halladan, you need to talk to someone," she said quietly.

"You think I am the only one, Pen-ii?" His voice was harsh. "That I am the only one who has lost? The only who saw people die? I have been in battle before… How do you think it makes me feel to know I am this undone by it… where I cannot even… when I even draw a sword on…" He was struggling to maintain his composure, his grip on the saddle tighter than ever.

"You will not be another Hiluin."

"And you know that for a fact, do you?"

She had no answer for him and long, silent seconds stretched between them.

"Exactly," he said savagely.

He turned back to his horse, looking like he would dearly love to hit something right about now. Instead he near threw himself up into the saddle.

"Halladan…"

"NO, PEN-II! I will not speak of this! Do not mention it to me ever again! I am deeply ashamed you had to witness this, and for that I apologise. I am deeply ashamed I drew my sword on you… Do NOT argue the point, Pen-ii, it is what happened, and I will never forgive myself for it. Never, do you hear me? You should have left me as I asked you to."

"Leave you? Leave you to be tormented by ghosts and dreams? No, Halladan! Not you, not anyone! You could not see yourself …" She could feel the tears coming once more at the memory of him crying out for his brother.

"I DO NOT NEED YOUR PITY!"

He glared at her for a moment, then turned his horse and rode off. Penny stared after him, shocked.

Of all the pig-headed, stubborn, obstinate…!

Presumably she was meant to obediently follow him and pretend none of this had ever happened. She was seriously tempted to just stand there, cross her arms and point blank refuse to get on her horse. See how he liked _them_ apples!

Halladan, who was only going at a walking pace, had not turned round nor showed any signs of stopping.

Penny wavered.

"Argh! _Men!_"

Various expletives were muttered under her breath as she went over to her mare, climbed in the saddle and went off after him.

It did not take long to catch up with him.

"You are a stubborn man, Halladan," she fumed.

She glanced sideways at him. His gaze was firmly fixed ahead of him, but she could see his jaw was tight.

"I realise you would prefer I had never been a witness to what happened just now, but I was, it happened, and if I am honest, I am glad. Does anyone else know this is happening to you?"

Stony silence.

"Halladan, let me say my piece and then, I promise you, I will never mention it again if you wish. I will also give you my word, here and now, that if you do not want me to mention this to anyone else, I will not do so even though I can think of several people who could, indeed probably should be told and who could help you."

Halladan drew in a deep, loud breath through his nose as if trying to control his temper at that point.

"As I said, you have my word that for as long as you wish me to remain silent, I will do so. But I want to say something first. After that I will shut up, I promise. We have a long ride back to the city. If you do not let me speak now, then I will hound you until you let me do so, so you might as well get it over with."

She waited, and since there was no response she carried on.

"I know I am very ignorant about many things which to you and everyone else seem basic if not the normal way of life, but I am not a stupid woman, Halladan. I learnt, I read while I was young. We called it 'school' in my tongue and I studied history, so I know a little about war and what it does to a man, or can do."

The tension and fury emanating from Halladan were palpable, but Penny was damned if she was going to shut up: it needed saying, whether he liked it or not.

"There was a great war around seventy years before I was born. A terrible war. They thought it would be the war to end all wars; it was not, of course, since there was an even greater one soon after it, but the point is that in that war the healers amongst my people first started to document that men were coming back from war utterly changed. Because you see, that war was very different from any previously. The number of men killed, the manner in which they were killed was like nothing that had come before it. At first the healers and the ones in charge of the armies could not understand what it was, and it was only long years afterwards that the truth was accepted. The horror those men went through…it was like nothing anyone had known before, and it was relentless, no obvious means to bring an end to it all, no clear point or purpose behind many of the battles and the deaths. It sent some of the soldiers mad, literally mad on the battlefield. They did not know where they were or what they were doing. They were killed for cowardice whereas in fact they had lost their minds."

She glanced at him. His face was still set, but his head was bowed a little and his demeanour had relaxed a little, almost imperceptibly. He was listening.

"Not all of them. Most managed to retain enough sanity to get home, but many were very ill, in their heads, with the shock, because of what they had seen and lived through. They suffered great torment afterwards – nightmares, waking dreams, reliving all they had been through. There is only so much a man can take. From that point on, though as I say it did take time to understand it, it became known and accepted that this was an inevitable consequence of war for many soldiers and there were countless examples from later wars of it happening time and again. I may not know much, Halladan, but I do know that what you are experiencing has been felt by countless soldiers."

There was a soft snort.

"I mean it. Nor is there any shame in this. It is nothing to do with bravery, or strength… I know you know men who have changed since the War, and it may be you do not realise it, but they are probably suffering just as much as you. It may be they do not talk about the extent of it, just as you have not talked to anyone of what you are going through, but there will be many who have waking nightmares, feel utterly changed and unable to deal with life. For all I know, perhaps ellyn are just as affected by war. It would not surprise me in the least if many of them have been through this as well, though without asking I could not know for sure. You cannot ignore this, Halladan. You cannot pretend it is not happening. If you never let this out, it will turn to poison. It is too much, the pain too great for you to deal with by yourself."

There was no reply.

"You should talk… to someone you trust implicitly, to someone whose judgement you trust, someone who knows you, who has seen battle just as you have. There are many, many that you know who would understand, Halladan, who may have even gone through this themselves, may still be going through it. You have gifted healers who have known you since a child, Halladan: Mithrandir, Elrond… Aragorn! You have to let them help you."

That grim, resolute and stony expression was back on his face. Penny knew she was talking to a brick wall once more.

"There is no shame in asking for help, Halladan! This is as much an injury of the War as your leg! There is no shame in finally accepting that, as strong and resilient and capable as you are, even you have too great a burden to bear! The men I was talking about, they saw their friends, their brothers in arms killed – how much worse when it is family, loved ones…"

"Are you done?"

She glared at him but realised she had probably cut too near the bone just then.

"Yes, I am finished. Forgive me, Halladan. I do not doubt you have no wish to hear any of this, and it does not please me to say these things or to cause you further pain, but it has to be said, and I hope one day you may thank me for it. I say all this to explain I am not just inventing this from thin air, but basing it on some prior knowledge of my own. But, yes, I am done. However, I have one last thing I would ask of you. I want you to promise me something, to give me your word. I know I cannot get you to promise me that you will talk to someone, but will you at least consider it?"

"No." The answer was quick, decisive, as if he had almost expected her to ask and had his answer ready.

"Halladan, what harm is there in at least thinking about it? Promise me you will think about it, even if you decide not to act upon it? Please."

There was silence.

"Halladan! I mean it!"

"Very well," he snapped, clearly exasperated, "if it will keep you quiet!"

"You swear it?"

"I give you my word I will consider it."

Penny smiled softly. That was enough. Even if she knew perfectly well by 'I will consider it' he meant 'I will consider it and reject it out of hand almost instantly', the point was she had managed to lodge the seed of an idea in his head and hopefully one day…

They rode on in silence. After a few minutes, she glanced at him to find he was looking at her.

"What?"

"And you call me stubborn?"

He did not smile, but his face was not as angry or severe as she had feared it might be. It was almost as if he was trying to break the atmosphere a little. She smiled and shrugged apologetically. He shook his head at her, and then turned to look ahead once more.

* * *

Author's Note: 

I think it only fair to point out that PTSD does not usually manifest itself with animated flashbacks. It can happen, but it is rare. Normally the sufferer slips into an alternate reality, with the flashback playing on a loop in front of them and seemingly in a state of something like catatonia to those around them. Halladan's flashbacks, when he has them, are usually like this. I am saying this thanks to a heartfelt and detailed review left by someone who is a PTSD sufferer. I feel it only fair to explain my process behind this scene, but shall not leave a giant author's note here. You can find the review and my reponse on my forum (see my author profile page), my LJ or else the reviews to this chapter on Stories of Arda.


	34. Us And Them

**Chapter 34** - _"Us And Them" _

Halladan had clearly taken Penny at her word when she had promised she would not mention it again, and though they rode in silence at first for quite some time, eventually the atmosphere between them eased a little. He began to point out flowers and plants to her, telling her if they were native to Gondor or if he knew them from back home, what properties (if any) they may have for healing or as a herb and what their names were in both Sindarin and Westron. Soon it was almost as if nothing untoward had happened at all.

Almost.

As they neared the city, they spotted a familiar group seated on the grass near the main thoroughfare, their horses grazing nearby.

"Ah, there you are!" Arvain called out to them. "Had a good ride?"

Halladan smiled and nodded and Penny followed his lead. She wondered how used he had got to lying, covering up or explaining away such incidents as the one she had just witnessed. She also wondered just how much those who knew him well realised how much he was struggling to cope and decided she would not be surprised if they could guess nearer than Halladan realised or was prepared to admit.

Mireth opened her mouth to say something, but Celebdor nudged her and she stayed silent. Penny guessed she had no doubt been about to ask how she was faring. It made her momentarily forget the past couple of hours and remember her own experience – up till now completely forgotten. She glanced a little nervously at the city walls, now looming nearby, as the others mounted their horses and then they slowly all set off together.

If anyone noticed that she seemed tense, they did not comment. If anything the chatter grew louder and the laughter increased as they came up to the gateway and entered the square. Indeed everyone seemed to be directing most of their chatter and jokes at Penny directly, so she was having to concentrate on following at least three different conversations at once and had little time to focus on where she was or what had so recently taken place there.

They did not stop at the First Circle stables but quite deliberately rode the horses up to the Sixth Circle so as to get through and away from the square as fast as possible. Halladan and Arvain made a point of riding between Penny and the side of the square with the alleyway where it had all occurred.

Halladan caught her glancing in its direction, though.

She forced a smile at him, but it was clear she was a little unnerved.

He smiled reassuringly back at her even as he called to Celebdor to tell Penny about the time they had gone riding when he was a boy and met wild boar in the woods. Celebdor laughed loudly and told Penny she would find this highly entertaining and Penny, distracted, turned to him with a grin. The next thing she knew they were out of the square and on their way up towards the Second Circle.

By the time they were passing through the gate to the Second Circle, Celebdor was laughing about how Halladan had been so terrified by the boar he had come across that Celebdor had found him up a tree with the boar at the base of the trunk.

"But I thought boar could be quite aggressive," Penny was saying.

"Exactly so, Pen-ii!" Halladan replied. "See, Celebdor? And I was only a boy too!"

"You are the one who asked me to tell this story, Halladan, so allow me to relate it in my own fashion."

Penny grinned and chuckled at Halladan. She could guess well enough why he had suddenly called for this story at that moment, even if it was at his own expense, indeed why they had all become so animated and desperate to distract her as they crossed the square. It had been most kind and thoughtful of them all.

"Ah, but I notice you failed to mention the moment when your horse shied, scared by the boar, and you slid off your horse's rump and landed in the mud," Lindir pointed out. "I heard it from good authority, namely Halbarad, that Halladan here laughed so hard he nearly fell out of the tree."

"That is true," Halladan said, beaming.

"Well, it was a rather large and demented boar, I will have you know," Celebdor said, with feeling.

"But you were making fun of Halladan for having run from it just now!"

"I am an ellon, Pen-ii, I am allowed to be inconsistent in my storytelling if I so choose. It is one thing for a horse to be startled. It is another for a boy who, frankly, should know better, to run like frightened rabbit."

The others laughed. Celebdor had lost the argument, and he knew it.

"Oh, be quiet," he muttered.

"You should have seen him. Head to toe covered in mud," Halladan was laughing at the memory, "I think that boar was killed as much over having ruined Celebdor's tunic and dirtied his hair as for having chased me up a tree!"

Penny laughed loud as Arvain then started doing impressions of a distraught Celebdor pawing at his muddied hair.

Word had travelled ahead of them, of course. After all, how many 'foreign women in the company of elves and Dunedain' were there in Minas Tirith? So the moment word had come from the soldiers who had arrested the thief, everyone had guessed who his victim (and her rescuers) had been.

As soon as they came up from the gate to the Seventh Circle, they were spotted by a few people in the courtyard who called their names and came rushing over asking how Penny was, what had happened, why they had not come straight up to the Citadel and the like. Penny made her excuses and left as hurriedly as she could, Mireth and Eleniel going with her and leaving the males to field questions as to all that had gone on.

"Ai, I think I shall stay here in our chambers for the rest of the day," Penny groaned as they walked through into the little room the three shared. "After all, if that reception is any indication of…"

She stopped, staring at her cot.

There, folded neatly at the foot of it, was a bolt of the red cloth she had been on her way to buy. She turned back to the two ellith, astonished. Mireth was grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, we did not want you to miss out just because…"

"That is where you and Celebdor disappeared off to!" Eleniel laughed. "I wondered why you looked so very pleased with yourselves!"

Penny sat on her bed, taking the cloth in her hands. She was so touched by their gesture. It was a very thoughtful and generous thing for them to have done. At the same time it made her painfully aware that she had utterly failed to buy something for herself by herself as she had planned and looked forward to. She knew better than to offer to reimburse Mireth or Celebdor – they would be hurt and very likely insulted as well if she tried. If she had not been so ridiculous and indecisive, she scolded herself, if she had just gone ahead and bought it when she had first considered it, then none of it would have happened.

Then she thought of Halladan. She had to admit that, however alarming whatever had happened to her might have been, it paled in comparison with what he had been through, what he was still going through.

She was beginning to loathe this city: the bitches in the court, the rules and etiquette of Gondorian society that made her feel quite constrained at times, muggers in dark alleys, the evidence of war all round in the city and on the Pelennor, soldiers fighting to keep their sanity with what they had witnessed…

The sooner she could leave Gondor the better as far as she was concerned. But then, was Imladris really an option? How long would Elrond's sons and Celeborn stay there?

"Pen-ii? Did I do the wrong thing?"

"What? Oh, no! No, not at all, Mireth, I am sorry." She smiled. "Thank you. I am… very touched, truly, it was most kind of you to do this." She laid the cloth to one side, stood to warmly embrace her friend.

That evening it was hard to avoid people coming up to her and saying they had heard what had happened, how dreadful it was and how fortunate she had not been harmed and that the others had been around to rescue her. Penny did make the point the man had been caught as he ran away, but to little avail.

An hour or two after the meal, Halladan and Arvain came to get her, telling her Aragorn had asked that she join them all at a gathering away from the general hubbub. Penny had been invited to such gatherings once or twice before, but never stayed long or enjoyed them overly much. For all there were people she knew there she would often get cornered by a few overbearing nobles intent on winning her favour so she could then put in a good word for them with the King or Queen.

This, however, turned out to indeed be a small affair and she knew everyone there, if not intimately, then relatively well. Elladan and Elrohir were sharing a joke with Gandalf and Legolas. Gimli was refilling Celeborn's cup for him while regaling him with tales of battle and derring-do of his ancestors that Celeborn was matching nearly point for point, much to Galadriel's amusement. Lindir and Faelon had joined Penny and the brothers as they had crossed the square and immediately fell into conversation with several other Dunedain standing near the door. Arwen and Elrond smiled and nodded at Penny as she entered the room, and she could just see Erestor and Glorfindel deep in conversation with Aragorn and Faramir. Sam and Frodo had just left, apparently. Pippin was on duty and so nowhere to be seen and Merry was back in the Hall singing a rather long and involved tale of Brandybucks, ale and japes that had his audience agog and rolling in the aisles. No doubt he would be along later if his adoring public could spare him.

Aragorn, spotting her, called her over to him and, with Faramir beside him, he formally apologised to her on behalf of the city.

"Rest assured the thief has been severely dealt with."

Penny wondered what exactly that might mean.

"He may not have harmed you or even intended to do so, but he scared you very badly and certainly meant to do that. I will not have such people in my city."

She thanked him and then asked after Hiluin and his wife.

Aragorn looked dark.

"She is still gravely ill. She may yet survive. We can but hope. As for Hiluin..." He trailed off and left his sentence unfinished.

"Is there nothing that can be done? Surely, with the likes of Mithrandir, Elrond and Galadriel…"

"We are doing all we can, Pen-ii, I assure you. You have to understand that sometimes a person has to want to be healed."

She looked confused.

"He knows what he did," Faramir explained quietly. "Or what he tried to do, what he will have done if his wife dies. The madness that came over him in those few minutes has long passed, and with its passing he now has the knowledge of what his grief led him to. It has nearly broken him completely."

She said nothing, just nodded dumbly. Her expression said everything.

Aragorn was watching her intently. Somewhere in the background she was dimly aware of Gimli making his farewells for the evening and several Dunedain saying they had early starts in the morning. Faramir crossed over to them to bid them goodnight and as he did so Aragorn spoke.

"I take it such things are known in your society?" he murmured.

She nodded. "It is understood… It is not unknown for soldiers to suffer, or indeed for anyone who has experienced something as terrible as war."

Aragorn said nothing. She looked at him.

"Is that not so? Perhaps, since you are all so used to fighting, to war, it is not the same."

"Oh, I would not say that. Violent death is a terrible thing to witness, to be a party to. It changes you completely."

Then Faramir was back and interrupting (with profuse apologies) but he needed to lead Aragorn away to discuss something with one of the Dunedain who was about to leave.

Slowly the evening progressed.

Arwen and her ladies-in-waiting left after a little, as did Faelon and Elladan who left together. One by one as the group grew smaller and smaller, Penny was eventually left with only those she knew well and who all knew her story. She could relax a little and not worry about what she said so much, and the excellent spiced wine was helping a little as well.

Penny found herself sitting and listening to Gandalf and Aragorn relating old tales of when Aragorn had first come to Minas Tirith many years ago as a young man.

"I gather Lord Denethor was not too enamoured of 'Thorongil.'"

Aragorn smiled grimly. "You could say that. I think he guessed at who I was, or my lineage at least. I was a threat."

"And he never saw me as anything other than meddlesome," Gandalf chipped in.

"Oh, he was more shrewd than that, I dare say," Penny replied. "He would have known if the heir to the Throne had appeared in Minas Tirith there could only be one person pulling the strings in the background."

"Indeed, Pen-ii?" Aragorn seemed amused. Then he abruptly changed the subject. "Tell me, how are you finding Minas Tirith? Is it to your liking? Will you stay with us, do you think?"

"Oh, well, I… er…"

Gandalf's look was knowing. "I think Lady Pen-ii still finds things a little… difficult. Would that be a fair assessment?"

"Indeed I think it would."

Penny turned to find Halladan standing near her.

"Well, 'difficult' is perhaps a rather strong word to use…"

Penny was floundering, not wanting to really tell the King of Gondor and Arnor to his face quite what she thought of half of his kingdom.

"I do not think one ever wholly gets used to the scars of war," Aragorn said in a low voice. "I think there are some things that we all find difficult, no matter how many times we see them."

He looked away from Penny as he said this, his gaze brushing over Halladan as if by mere accident as he spoke, and finally looking out through the open door to the balcony to his right and the night sky beyond.

"I would not dare to presume that whatever discomfort I may feel is anything like that for those who have known battle, your Majesty."

Penny's voice was also quiet as she stared down into her cup, but she did not doubt for an instant Halladan could hear her.

"I forget you have never known war," Aragorn replied, turning back to her. "You are most fortunate."

"But her people have," Gandalf said. "Remember she said to us once how there were things she might tell us but it might be better we never knew?"

"My father mentioned that." Arvain had come to join his brother, moving a chair beside Gandalf and insisting his brother take it while he stood behind him. "I find it hard to believe, Pen-ii."

She said nothing. She had given Halladan some indication of the little she had studied on such matters while receiving her relatively ordinary secondary education, and she had no desire to…

"Better we sail West than stay to see what would become of Men," Celeborn was saying. "That is what she said to us in Lothlorien."

"Not for a very long time," Penny muttered hurriedly. "And besides, enough horrors have happened even in your own histories for you to know the sorts of things evil can drive people to commit."

"I find it hard to believe anything could compare with the battles some of us have seen, though I take your word, Pen-ii." Elrond, ever gentle and wise in tone, had added his voice to the mix, indeed it seemed as if every other conversation was stopping so the remaining few could join in on this one.

"Oh, I think Pen-ii shows some level of understanding," Aragorn replied. "Her spirited defence of Hiluin and all soldiers of war the other day indicated that…"

"With all due respect, Estel, and to you, Pen-ii, without having been present in battle herself, how could Pen-ii truly know the bitter truth of such…?"

"Do you think I do not read, Lindir?" It had come out slightly sharper than she had intended. "Forgive me, Lindir, but really you have no idea about my time, about how very different it is from this."

"Oh, I think some of us understand better than you might believe."

She looked at Gandalf.

"Different?" Lindir was sounding a little confused and Penny suddenly wondered just how much spiced wine he had had. "But I thought it was being argued that you, or those in your society, had known war like ours or just as bad. If it was different, then…"

"I mean, Lindir, that war on the scale that has been seen even in living memory in my time is something that, with all due respect to everyone present, I do not think any of you have known. Indeed I think it would be incomprehensible to you. There was a time, not even a hundred years before my own, when war was still seen as a glorious, noble thing. Terrible, horrible, and yet something in which there was still a nobility, an honour, a pride."

There were murmurs of agreement round the room.

"Are you saying that is no longer the case?" Aragorn seemed as surprised as he was curious.

"We know too much. We have seen too much. As a society, I mean."

She hesitated, glanced round at them. Only Galadriel hung back, watching, but everyone else had taken a seat or was standing nearby.

"It is one thing, perhaps, when you fight a known, clear evil, when you have a purpose, when there is no question that your enemy must be stopped at all costs…"

She paused again for a moment.

"Around that time, there was a war. They thought it would be the war to end all wars because it was huge, so terrible… and so many men, young men, some barely more than boys… so many died that it changed everything. No one had seen battle on this scale before. No one had known horror like this. What they went through, what those men went through… Nothing was the same after that, nothing."

Suddenly the atmosphere was changed – quiet, serious and expectant. Penny realised she had little choice but to explain further. She really had not wanted to talk about such things.

"It lasted four years and during that time an entire generation of young men were lost from many different countries and people – every family had at least one unmarried woman. All those men dead, and the leaders…" She gave a disgusted snort. Eyebrows were raised and glances exchanged. "Your Majesty, you led your men from the front, as have any here who has had to be in charge of any front, any attack, or any defence, I do not doubt."

"But of course." Aragorn was quick to respond, as if that was patently obvious that anyone with soldiers under his charge would behave in such a fashion. Then his brows furrowed with incredulity. "What are you saying, Pen-ii?"

"The generals sat several miles away from the front line sending young men to their deaths in what they knew would be a hopeless exercise time and again, month after month."

There were gasps and cries of indignation.

"There were many times the men knew what they were doing was certain suicide and yet…"

"How many? Do you know?"

She looked at Gandalf and shook her head.

"It is many years since I read about this. I cannot remember exact numbers. But it was a huge number. Not thousands or tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands."

Eyes were wide around the room now.

She looked at Erestor. "What is the word for a thousand thousand?"

"One million," Erestor said slowly. He was looking at her in astonishment.

"Thank you. It was at least eight million. Not including those who were not soldiers."

There was a stunned silence.

Penny kept on talking.

"And of course twenty years later there was an even greater and more terrible war. My great-grandfather fought in that. Many, many more were killed in that war."

"But how is that even possible?" Celeborn looked appalled.

"There are many more people then than now…"

"No, no, I mean the numbers… in just four years…"

"Many countries were involved. It was a war that took place over a huge area. Not only that but… well, the fighting was not the same as what you have now."

She grew hesitant and looked at Gandalf.

"I said I would not tell you this sort of thing…"

"We are all warriors in our own way. Every one of us here, Pen-ii. You can speak freely."

So she explained how, if they could imagine something that might shoot arrows at the rate of several hundred a minute, that such a thing could be held by one or two men and several at once in a line could mow down row upon row of advancing troops.

"They wore no armour, you see," she explained. "Other than a metal hat."

There were muttered oaths, then, glances exchanged, grim looks, and, at last, some understanding of what she had been so wary to explain.

She described how something akin to Saruman's exploding powder was put into metal tubes and then thrown great distances into the ranks of men. She did not need to finish her explanation of the devastating effect of such a contraption: every warrior there could fill the rest from his own imagination and experience. She did not dare look at Halladan as he stood abruptly and walked over to the door to stare out into the night sky.

She tried to explain what a shock this War had been to her society, how apocalyptic it had seemed, how it had changed everything forever. The numbers of dead, the conditions in which they had lived, the hopelessness of each endeavour, the deadly, murderous stalemate and futile sacrifices day after day…

"The landscape became defiled, stripped of vegetation with the explosions and fires. There was nothing but bare earth and in winter it became a sea of mud or frozen solid. In some battles tens of thousands just drowned in the mud," she said simply. "Eru help you if you were wounded or tripped – you had no chance."

She glanced round to see their faces taut with, if not disbelief, then shock, horror and a complete inability to express the range of emotions running through them.

She ground to a halt then. She felt she had made her point even without describing life in the trenches with the cold, the rats, the mud, the camaraderie broken only by slaughter or disease, or else the horror of no man's land with the bodies, the filth, the rotting corpses left unburied or exposed with every blast of a shell.

She caught Galadriel's eye and as she did so, the elleth walked towards her, holding her gaze all the while. She did not remember a question being asked, but she could not stop herself from filling in the gaps, all the things she had left unsaid. She heard Galadriel gasp and saw her eyes fill with tears.

"But such a thing… It is intolerable."

Even Halladan turned to look as Galadriel turned back to face the others, her face stricken with grief by what she had seen in Penny's mind. She looked up at her husband.

"She was right. It is best we never see such things."

Celeborn stepped over to her quickly, wrapped his arms about her and kissed her brow.

"But why, Pen-ii? For what reason? What cause?"

"I cannot answer you, Gandalf. It is too long, too complicated, too meaningless. Such are rulers and countries with their petty squabbles and arrogance. Man's inhumanity to man. It is a phrase in my tongue. Long years they fought, and all those men dead, sometimes only to move forward by one mile or less. It was hopeless – no way for either side to win and yet they fought on and on till they could fight no more."

"And I take it many suffered as Hiluin suffers now?"

It was Aragorn who asked. Penny studiously avoided looking in Halladan's direction, though she knew perfectly well he was looking straight at her.

"Many. Many went mad in battle and were killed as cowards by their own…"

There were roars of outrage at that.

"… Their illness was not understood, and it was not till long years afterwards that such men were treated with anything like compassion or understanding. Since that war there have been many brutal, terrible things committed. The last hundred years are said to have been the bloodiest ever known in human history. I do not doubt that to be true."

To say she had killed the mood would be an understatement. That said, she had not particularly wanted to talk about such things, but she had been left with little choice. She had told them they would not like to hear it and they had not. They did better understand her level of knowledge of such things, even if she had not experienced them herself first hand.

She made her excuses pretty quickly and left as fast as was decent after that. She briefly considered going out onto the balcony where she knew Halladan was standing alone, staring out onto the dark city below. She felt she should apologise, should explain that she had not intended to bring the subject up. Then she thought it might be best to let sleeping dogs lie, and she let Arvain walk her to her door without bothering his brother.

That night her sleep was fitful. She had several strange and vivid dreams, the worst being one where her brother and mother were burying her, but the casket was see-through and she could see them clearly through its sides. She was screaming, waving, shouting, desperately trying to make it clear she was not dead, that they must not bury her, but they could not hear her. As she was lowered into the ground, the first thud of the earth being shovelled on top of the coffin, she awoke with a start and her heart pounding.

Eleniel stirred, and rolled over on her cot to look at her questioningly. Penny had risen from the bed and was reaching for a dress.

"I cannot sleep. I am going for some air."

Eleniel sat up. "Let me keep you company…"

"No, no. Please. You rest, Eleniel, I shall be fine. I will go for a wander in the courtyard and return shortly."

Eleniel, reassured, lay back down again. Penny slipped on a dress and shoes and headed outside.

What time it was, she had no way of knowing. She tried to gauge from the moon, but the attempts the elves had made to teach her such things had not really sunk in. It had to be late if Mireth and Eleniel were resting, though. As she wandered up to the courtyard and saw it was empty of all but the occasional guard crossing it, she knew it was probably well into the early hours.

She had brought a light shawl with her – one of Eleniel's – since it was a clear night and cooler than might be expected given it was high summer, and especially up here in the highest Circle with the slight breeze. She wrapped it around herself and wandered up to one of the benches near the fountain and white tree in the centre of the square.

She felt tired but too awake, too alert. She had no particular desire to try and sleep if she was to have another dream like that again. She would just sit here for a while, in the quiet darkness, admiring the bright stars in the sky, the sound of the water from the fountain. It was peaceful. Hopefully after a little while she could wander back to her chambers and have some restful sleep for whatever remained of the night.

"Pen-ii?"

She jumped. There was a low chuckle from behind her.

"Forgive me, Pen-ii, I did not mean to startle you."

"Halladan, do not do that! You are as bad as an elf!"

He laughed softly. "I think I might take that as a compliment, only you must have been lost deep in your thoughts indeed to not hear my limping shuffle and my stick tapping on the stones."

Something about the way he said it made her look at him as he came to sit next to her.

"Your leg will heal, Halladan. You said so yourself."

"Perhaps. It will never be quite what it was, I suspect." He rubbed at it slightly, wincing a little.

"It hurts you?"

"Aches a little at times. I am meant to rub it, knead it a little every now and then. I forget and then get a telling off from the healers." He smiled ruefully.

"I shall remind you, in that case."

"Ai, not you also!"

"Halladan, if you cannot remember for yourself…"

He smiled and shook his head, lifting his hands slightly in a half-shrug as if to say 'there is no arguing with you.'

"It is for your own good, you know!" She was grinning.

"I know, I know!" He chuckled and there was a few more minutes' silence.

"You cannot sleep?"

He shook his head. "You?"

"Same. I kept dreaming of my family. I decided I needed some air."

Halladan was pulling out his pipe and a small pouch of tobacco. He began to fill the bowl.

"I am here most nights," he said.

She looked at him. "You never did answer my question of today, about whether you were sleeping well or not."

He said nothing for a minute or so, just carried on pushing down the tobacco in the pipe bowl. Then he carefully put the pouch away, lit the pipe and took a few sucks on it as he looked ahead towards the Citadel and the mountains.

"Well, now you have your answer," he said at last.

She had no idea what to say, but even as she searched for the words he threw her a quick sideways glance, saw her expression and cut her off before she could speak.

"Oh, I am no different from many, Pen-ii. There are times I meet fellows out here in the early hours, taking some air, avoiding sleep just like myself. Admittedly, there were a few more when the Rohirrim were still here and the men from Dol Amroth, but still…"

There was so much she could say, wanted to say, indeed, but she held her tongue. For once in her life, Penny let her head hold sway and Halladan seemed to appreciate it. They sat in companionable silence, Halladan smoking his pipe and Penny looking up at the stars. Occasionally she would try and show off what little she had managed to learn from the elves, pointing out a constellation or a star and trying to remember its name. A few she got right. Many she got wrong, though, and Halladan would correct her with an amused smile.

Eventually, his pipe finished and with the first pale light of dawn showing in the East, Halladan suggested she try and get some rest. They walked slowly to her lodgings but as they reached the door, Penny turned to him.

"Halladan? I know I said I would not mention it, and I would not, except…"

Halladan gave a heavy sigh and his face fell. "I had wondered if it would be too much to hope for."

"That is not fair, Halladan. I meant what I said to you. I gave you my word, and I will stand by that. I only wanted to say… well… it occurred to me that perhaps I had been the one to… I mean, I just wanted to ask you to forgive me, that was all."

Halladan seemed confused.

"We only stopped where we did because I asked if we could, and just before you… I had just pointed out to you that you had mentioned Hirvell to me. If I was the cause of what happened… I am so very sorry, Halladan, please forgive me."

Halladan looked at her for a moment, but his expression was unreadable in the darkness.

"There is nothing to forgive, Pen-ii. I should have recognised where we were sooner, and it could just as easily have… happened elsewhere." There was a strain in his tone of voice that showed how hard it was for him to talk about it even in such oblique terms. "Till this moment it did not even occur to me that you could be in any way to blame. I still do not think so, indeed I know so. Rather, I should apologise to you. I do not doubt it was frightening for you."

"A little at first, perhaps… before I understood what was happening. It was distressing more than frightening, if I am honest."

"I have little control… It is hard to…" He was finding difficulty expressing himself, but the sense of frustration and self-reproach were clear in his tone.

"I understand, Halladan." She could guess it must be hard for him to discuss this.

He nodded, as if thanking her for allowing him to leave much unsaid.

"I thank you for your concern, and for your apology, but there really is no need." He smiled. "Now go and rest."

"And you? Will you take some rest?"

"No. No, I will go and watch the dawn rise over the mountains."

As she watched him heading off back up the alley towards the courtyard she wondered if, as he watched the sun rise over the mountains of Mordor, he would look to the north-west corner of the mountain chain and think of his brother.

She suspected he very probably would.

The days fell back into the easy routine of before. When she was not in the library (or at her Westron lessons, which continued apace), then she was often at Meresel's house which was a large, grand building in the Sixth Circle. Her children were delightful, but Penny quickly learnt that it raised eyebrows amongst the servants if you rolled on the floor while playing with a toddler. Meresel laughed and told Penny not to mind them, but Penny could tell that even she found Penny's behaviour a little too free at times.

She learnt a few children's rhymes though, and discovered the Gondorian equivalent of 'Ten Green Bottles Sitting On The Wall' was 'Ten Milk Churns on the Drayman's Cart.' However, Meresel's eldest son (who had a ten-year-old cousin who clearly taught him much) whispered that there was another version that ran 'Ten Dead Orcs on a Soldier's Spear' with various graphic variations. Penny agreed that, yes, it was indeed a much better version and promised that, no, she would not tell his mother he knew it.

However, there were various factors that had taken the edge off Penny's enjoyment of the city, not least of which was the fact that she was studiously avoiding having to go down to the First Circle or anywhere near the main city square for the time being. The oppressive feeling of the city's unfamiliar familiarity increased daily, as did the sense that she was ever so slightly out of kilter with the court and Gondorian life in general. Meresel went out of her way to make Penny feel welcome, and Arwen insisted she spend much time with the ladies of the court, but she could never wholly relax or be herself the way she could with the elves or even the Dunedain. She was constantly aware there was always one lady or other with a critical look in their eye, sniffing disdainfully at her.

Not only that, though.

The episode with Halladan had done much to shake her, to remind her of the cost of war and the guilt she felt that would not leave her completely. She suspected it likely never would for as long as she remained in Gondor and in Minas Tirith especially. As for things between the two of them, if Penny had been concerned that it would make things awkward, she need not have worried. Halladan seemed to accept her word that she would not refer to it, and she did not after that one time, so as the days went by his trust in her was confirmed.

She was concerned, though. Now she knew what he was suffering she could see things she had either not noticed before, or had not been aware of their significance. He often looked tired through lack of decent sleep, and he could sometimes be overly sharp in response to someone, though it was rare.

She could also see both Faelon and Arvain had a watchful concern for him. Everyone seemed to skirt round him, almost as if waiting, hoping he might let them in but allowing him the space to do whatever he felt was best in the meantime. However, Penny was not convinced that strategy was working, not if what she had witnessed on the Pelennor was anything to go by.

No one remarked on the fact that the two seemed to spend their evenings together quite a bit. He provided her with a good excuse to avoid the company when she felt she could not cope with it, but also Penny seemed to be good at coaxing Halladan from his morose solitude and getting him to be a little bit more sociable.

Those times when she got bullying and insistent about him coming in from the courtyard (usually under the pretext that she would like to have a dance and he needed to exercise that leg of his), Halladan would give her a look that told her in no uncertain terms that, given what she now knew, she should know better than to push it. She would just ignore him, though, because she was determined, rightly or wrongly, that anything that would keep his mind off things might help. For whatever reason, he rarely offered much resistance or put his foot down. Perhaps something in Halladan was trying to make up for having allowed her to be witness to his trauma, or perhaps he was even trying to prove to her that he really was not the wreck she might now imagine him to be. Thus he allowed her to drag him off for a dance or to be sociable on a slightly more regular basis than he might have liked in normal circumstances. Arvain would laugh and encourage her, and Faelon would quite deliberately make a grab for Halladan's tankard with a wide grin saying he would hold it for him, so Halladan was left with no choice.

"I would prefer…" he would hiss at her through clenched teeth.

"I know you would, but this will keep us both busy for a while."

And she would not look at him as she said this for fear his stern look might make her hesitate. Instead she would wait until they were in position and the music already starting. Only then would she risk a smile and he would shake his head at her and chuckle.

Word had come from Rohan some time before as to when Eomer was due to arrive. Messengers had been sent south to Prince Imrahil at the same time since he had made it clear he wished to honour King Theoden and join the funeral party at such time as it left Minas Tirith.

Two days after the incident on the Pelennor, Penny noticed two blond nobles in Rohirric dress sitting with Faelon and Elladan at lunch. Several Gondorians or Dunedain stopped to greet them, and it was clear these two had fought side by side with many in the room. They had come with the news that Eomer was indeed on his way, as planned, and would arrive within three days with an entire eored of men to collect their fallen King.

It would not be long before they set off, then, back to Rohan, and Penny could tell there was a level of both excitement and sadness building. The hobbits were talking a lot more of home and how much they missed it (conversations that Penny studiously avoided, if she could), and the elves spoke of how their work was done in Gondor and that it would heal and become great once more. The Gondorian nobles were beginning to voice their thoughts on how much the elves would be missed, and how fortunate they felt they had been to have been in the presence of so many. The only ones who said nothing were the Dunedain, though Penny did not doubt they longed to return home just as much as the hobbits did. They would leave dead friends behind them, though, and that would be a hard moment indeed.

It was late afternoon the following day. Penny had just finished tea with the hobbits and was on her way back out to the main square, ambling down the corridors with Eleniel, Legolas and Gandalf who had all been at the meal. As they passed through a doorway out into the open, Gandalf called Penny's name and she turned to find him hanging back a little.

"Would you care to join me for a little walk?" he asked as he slowly made his way out of the doorway.

"But of course."

Gandalf smiled, nodded and turned right, heading off towards the royal chambers at a slow walking pace.

They chatted inconsequentially about nothing terribly much as they made their way to the group of buildings to the back of the Citadel. Indeed it was so inconsequential that Penny began to feel a little nervous. It was as if Gandalf were very deliberately trying to make it seem as if nothing of any import whatsoever was about to be discussed, which of course only made Penny think that that was exactly what was going to happen.

And she reckoned she could probably guess what the subject would be when he finally got round to broaching it.

Eventually, Gandalf led her to a small courtyard that was enclosed only on three sides, the fourth side being the outer wall with an embrasure and a seat in the middle.

"Come, let us sit."

He gestured to the stone seat and Penny could see the deep slit in the wall looked out over the south of the city and the Pelennor.

"Well, now," Gandalf said at last. "I thought perhaps it was time we had a little talk. You have been in the city some time now, and while I realise you are still finding some aspects of life here difficult, it is less raw or distressing than it was. Would that be a fair assessment?"

"Yes."

She tried not to sound worried. She was really not sure she wanted this conversation. Especially not if it was going where she thought it was going.

"Oh, I apologise for springing this on you." He smiled. "You must not think too unkindly of me. Best I bring it up like this rather than give you advance warning and let you worry and squirrel your way out of it, no?" The smile broadened.

"Mithrandir, I am really not sure that I…"

"I understand your fears. Really, I do. For all that you are desperate for answers, the fear of what those answers might be is probably greater than your curiosity. I suspect that you may never have come to me to discuss this if I had left it in your hands."

Penny suspected he was probably right.

He sighed. "Let me be frank, Pen-ii. I have no idea how you came here, or why it occurred."

Penny had not expected him to come to the point quite so abruptly. There was a brief silence.

"Oh."

She was not sure why she felt so disappointed. After all, if he had known he would have told her long ago, and she had not really expected him to know. Even so…

"It is the work of a power far greater than even I can fathom. It may be there is a purpose behind it. Who can say? I can guess at some who might better understand or conjecture, but they are not here to aid us, nor can I ask them directly. All I can tell you is that I do not know, nor is it for me to know. It may be there is something you would do or have done already. It may be there is something that will come about many years from now as a consequence of your being here. It may be there is no reason for it at all."

Penny's pulse was beginning to race as she waited for what she now knew was coming.

"Will you stay here in Arda? Ah, now there is a question indeed. You remember how when I first met you it seemed as if you were at once familiar to me and yet so very, very different?"

Penny nodded.

"Well, now I meet you once again here in Gondor and you are changed. I know Galadriel said as much to you, and it is plain for those with wisdom to see it. I can sense it very clearly. There will always be something about you that is at one remove from this place, but you are not so strangely different any more." He looked at her. "You are where you should be, Pen-ii. You belong."

Penny was trying not to think about the implications in that phrase.

"The Lady Galadriel said I was 'home.'"

Gandalf nodded. "And indeed you are. I cannot explain it. I can only tell you what I know to be true. Will that situation change? Perhaps. … No, no, Pen-ii, do not get upset. It is best to be honest, no?"

Penny's face had fallen and a sound of disappointment had escaped her before she could stop it.

"As I was about to say, however, my instincts tell me it is unlikely. I shall not say it is impossible, but you are too rooted, too at one with your surroundings for me to think it will happen. As I said before, this is where you are meant to be, for all that seems so very strange. You once seemed very distant to me, as if you had still so much of you at some far remove from me, lost in mists that even I could not penetrate. That is not the case now. You are here and all is as it should be. I can sense that very clearly and absolutely."

Penny's mind was a whirl. She had no idea what to make of all this. These were answers, and yet they were not. Was this certainty? Or the nearest she would get to it? Dare she hope?

Gandalf took her hand, and laid his other hand gently on her cheek, tilting her head upwards so she looked into his eyes.

"You must not fear, Pen-ii. Live your life. You cannot worry about things that may never come to pass. I cannot tell you with any certainty what the future may bring, though I have some insight. What you fear will not come to pass, of that I am as sure as I can be. I hope I am never proved wrong, for you have made good friends here, and I, and others who know you well, think you are perhaps happier here than you ever were before. Is that not the case?"

She nodded. She felt so desperately guilty about it, about wanting to stay, about not wanting to return to her family…

"There is no easy path in life. Sometimes you make hard choices in the face of fear. But know this, Pen-ii, let this be an advice from one who, if I may be so bold, has some wisdom to impart and has some inkling of what tomorrow may bring: do not let fear prevent you from choosing happiness. You are home. Remember that."

What was he telling her?

"You can only live your life as if you are here to stay for the rest of your days."

"That is what I have been doing. I think I would have gone insane otherwise."

"Indeed. Exactly so. I am less worried than I was in Imladris, however. You are more part of this world now than you ever were then. I think there is little danger of your returning now, indeed I am almost certain there is none."

Was it so very wrong of her to feel a surge of happiness at those words?

"I cannot tell you with sure knowledge, only from my instinct and supposition. No matter if I am wrong or right, you must live here as if that is the case. You must grieve the loss of your family and you must accept your new life here. The way is forward, not back."

Grieve the loss of her family? Yes, that was true. She had set no time aside for such a thing, it had almost been as if she was on extended holiday, as if one day even if years passed she might see them once more…

A tear spilled over onto one cheek. A gnarled thumb stroked it away.

"Your mother would be proud if she could see you now, how you have changed and grown. Of that I am certain."

Several more tears trickled down and she took deep breaths, trying to maintain her composure.

She felt her hand gently squeezed in his.

"Ah, Pen-ii, I know what it is to be far from home and from those you love."

"Do you remember it? I mean, is it very clear to you?"

The hand at her face fell slowly to his lap and he looked out towards the distant Anduin as he spoke.

"I do remember it. Better now than I did when I was still 'The Grey'. I yearn to return even though I know not if my fate is to remain in Valinor or move on even further still. My task here is complete at long last. Once you have known such beauty, such light, your heart is always restless to return. It never leaves you."

"And yet some choose to stay away. If you feel such a thing, surely Sauron must have done also? Saruman?"

"You have to want what that beauty and light stands for. It is easy, perhaps, to allow other desires to become greater in your heart, carry more weight, seem truer and of more worth, however misguided. Besides, once a path is trodden it is difficult to turn back. It is easier to continue, easier to fear that there is no hope of return even if that is not the case."

"There is one story that says Saruman nearly joined you."

Gandalf turned his head to look down at her, eyebrows furrowed and his gaze curious and surprised.

"The Nazgul came to his door while you were on the tower. In one version of the tale he immediately realised his folly, rushed to speak to you, to ask forgiveness but it was too late. He arrived in time to see you fly away. Till they arrived he had not fully appreciated the danger he had put himself in by setting himself in opposition to Sauron as a rival."

"I see."

There was a rather pregnant pause and then…

"Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Pen-ii?"

What the_…_!

"N-no. Why do you…?"

"You are sure?"

"Gandalf, I…"

Her head had dropped. She was not looking at him.

"I hope you have good reasons, Pen-ii. The War is over. Sauron is fallen."

'Yes, but the War is _not_ over, is it?' she thought. 'And there is still stuff to happen and if I tell you what he is capable of, what he has done, what he plans to do, would you believe me? Would you kill him on the strength of that alone? Could you allow the people, the place you love so dearly to suffer so much? I doubt it. And yet could you kill him yourself in Grima's place? In cold blood? Could Elrond or Galadriel or any of you?'

She glanced up at him briefly to find his gaze was piercing, possibly even a little knowing. Had he guessed? Why else ask at the mention of Saruman? Why now?

Gandalf nodded slowly, as if to himself more than anything.

"Very well, Pen-ii. I would ask you to think long and hard over anything you keep back. I know you know how serious a business this is."

"It is not a decision I make lightly, Gandalf. Even now I worry and wonder, and I may yet speak to you or someone else."

"Someone else?"

Penny said nothing. She could not explain that she felt it unwise to speak to those who would come face to face with Saruman himself on the journey north, those who would, in their wisdom, kindness and magnanimity let him go free rather than slay him like the dog he was. After all, had he not helped them (as they understood it) in the past? Had he not aided them in the fight against Sauron to remove him from Dol Guldur? The full extent of Saruman's malice was even yet not completely understood. Possibly not until the true Elendilmir was discovered by Aragorn hidden away in Orthanc would it to be realised just how far Saruman had fallen and how long ago, how utterly lost and unredeemable his black heart now was.

As Penny had said: the story of Saruman changing his mind in fear was only one version and may not even be true for all she knew.

Gandalf quickly brushed the moment aside, repeating all the things he had said to her previously: that she must think of herself as staying in Middle-earth. Even if he could not confirm that that absolutely was the case, it made no difference to Penny: it was almost the best answer she could have hoped for.

It did not sink in at first. In many ways it changed nothing since, as she had said to Gandalf, she had had to train herself into thinking as if she was here to stay many months ago or else lose her marbles completely.

And yet…

And yet it changed so much. She could relax, she could sit back, she could make plans…

She could finally accept both her situation and her loss.

As they walked back out to the courtyard they were silent, a thousand thoughts cramming in on her. When they reached the open space she could see several friends milling around, filling the small amount of time there would be till supper with chatting, singing and laughter. She felt overwhelmed, suddenly, as if she had a desperate need to be alone to try and process what she had been told.

"Go. Go to your chambers," Gandalf said quietly, even as he spotted Lindir waving at them and calling them over. "I shall fend them off for you." And he smiled and she knew he had forgiven her her reticence about the Saruman business, though she still worried she was making the wrong decision.

"Thank you."

She hurried off.

As she rounded the corner to the alleyway down to their lodgings, she met Celebdor, Mireth, Halladan and Faelon on their way to the square. She murmured apologies and said she needed to get some rest, that she would see them a little later. They smiled, nodded and moved away, as did she, but Halladan hesitated.

"Is anything amiss?"

"What? No."

"Only you seem… I am not sure, a little agitated, a little… well, not distressed exactly…"

She looked down, torn between her happiness and her sadness.

"Pen-ii?" He took a step towards her. "Pen-ii, what is it?"

"It is nothing. Really. I… I just need to be alone a while." She looked up at him. "I am quite well, I assure you. I… I just spoke to Gandalf and he gave me news I have both longed and feared to hear. I am a little bewildered. I need time to think over what he has told me, to accept it and come to terms with it. Forgive me, Halladan… I will speak to you later about it."

"But of course." He smiled sympathetically. "I quite understand."

She made to leave.

"I only hope it was good news?"

She turned, walking backwards even as she spoke. "Yes. Yes, it was. Or at least… No, it was. Yes, it was good news."

He smiled and she smiled back, if a little hesitantly. She turned once more, walking quickly to the door to her lodgings.

She did not know it, but Halladan remained standing at the top of the alleyway watching her all the while.

* * *

Author's Notes:

There is some debate over whether when Gandalf was 'sent back' it was only temporarily to finish the job and then return to Eru Himself, or whether he was truly 'reincarnated' (which is not quite the right word, I know) and would return to Valinor to live as Olorin as he had always done. For myself, I think the wording implies that he would not stay in Valinor but would move on, but I have left it open here. I think Gandalf knows what the answer is, even if he says he is not sure.

Re. WWI: the figures for the total dead of soldiers taken from as reliable a source as I could find, but such things are never wholly accurate and you will find different numbers according to where you look. Taking into account every country that fought on both sides, the total of combatants who died is thought to be around 9 million.

The details of Saruman – the Nazgul visiting him on their way North to the Shire and him having found the bones of Isildur (and thus the true Elendilmir as well as the chain and locket in which Isildur carried The Ring) – are to be found in Unfinished Tales. The Elendilmir was a jewel worn on a band that was the sign of Kingship. It was, obviously, worn by Isildur and thus still on his body when he died and so was lost. A copy was made to replace it and it was that copy which Aragorn wore until he found the original in Orthanc.

My thanks to everyone for the amount of comment and feedback the last chapter generated, especially from those with personal experience of PTSD. hugs you all Apologies for the time this chapter has taken to get up.


	35. The Tangling of the Web

**Chapter 35** - _"The Tangling of the Web"_

For a long while, Penny stood at the window in her room, staring south unseeingly, thinking about everything and nothing.

"Right, madam," she was muttering to herself. "You need to start making decisions and plans."

But that was easier said than done, and she was no nearer any kind of conclusion even when Eleniel and Mireth finally arrived to drag her off to supper.

After the meal Halladan made a point of, for once, refusing to allow her to drag him off for a dance and insisted they go outside to talk. Arvain came with them and she told them both what Gandalf had said.

"But that is wonderful!" Arvain grinned, hugging her impulsively.

"Argh! Put me down, you fool!" She was laughing as he spun her round.

Halladan was smiling broadly. "It puts your mind at rest at least."

"Well, yes, I suppose," she replied, trying to smooth her skirts and catch her breath now Arvain had stopped swinging her round like the proverbial cat. "Gandalf was not speaking in certainties, though. There is always that slim possibility…"

"If Mithrandir says he is as sure as he can be that something will not occur, then trust me, Pen-ii, it will not occur. He is not someone to say such things lightly."

"My brother has a point," Halladan agreed.

"I think this calls for a celebration!"

"Ai, do I want to know?"

"Well, you could promise me a dance or two for a start, Pen-ii. That and I feel sure I could persuade Aragorn to open a keg of Rohirric ale…"

"Oh, no, you don't! I am not going near that stuff ever again!"

The brothers laughed loud.

"Yes, we heard all about that," Arvain chortled. "I have to say for someone who supposedly did not like to dance, you apparently surpassed yourself."

"Oh, shush."

Halladan was chuckling madly as he filled his pipe.

"Of course, I suppose this should make deciding where I am to stay slightly easier," Penny said, plonking herself on the bench beside Halladan. "I am not sure that it does, though."

"Well, you have a while to decide, do you not?" Arvain came to sit on the other side of his brother. "After all there will be the journey to Rohan, and even then you could possibly leave the decision until the Gap of Rohan, which is as far as King Elessar intends us to travel with you all."

Penny blinked at him. "I beg your pardon?"

"King Elessar. He will not be travelling all the way to the North just yet. There is too much to be done here for now…"

"No, no, you said 'us'."

"Yes, many of the Dunedain are staying here for as long as Aragorn needs us," Halladan explained.

"The Dunedain are not going North!" Penny looked at them both for a moment in astonishment. "But I had assumed… I mean…"

Halladan and Arvain exchanged the briefest of glances.

"Some of us will be. Faelon, for example, is riding with the elves, but most will be staying here for at least another month or so. We left men back home protecting our own. Not all of us could be reached in time to ride south, after all." Halladan was sounding relatively breezy as he spoke. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she replied, attempting to match Halladan's tone, but just slightly too hurried to be completely sincere. "I had just thought, what with you having been here as long as you have already, that was all." She smiled.

"Does it say in your stories that we return North now?"

Halladan kicked his brother in the ankle and glared at him.

"No. I mean it says nothing. Little is said or known about the Dunedain. I have told you that." She tried smiling again and waved her hand noncommittally. "I had just misunderstood."

She was trying to ignore her brain which was screaming at her that if the Dunedain were not there any time soon, then who was going to stop who knew what rampaging all over Eriador as it came up the Greenway from Orthanc? But then perhaps that was the point, perhaps that was how it had happened?

"Ah, there you are!" It was Lindir coming down the stairs from the Hall towards them. "A little bird tells me that you had some good news today, Pen-ii. How about a dance to celebrate?"

"I was just suggesting the same thing," Arvain laughed.

"Ah, well, in that case it has to be a good idea." Lindir grinned, holding out his hand.

Penny was grateful for the opportunity to escape.

"But of course! Will I see you both inside?"

"Yes, yes, we will be there presently." Halladan replied cheerily. He waved his pipe at her. "I will just finish this and we will head straight in."

Penny hurried off with Lindir.

There was a minute's pause and then Halladan and Arvain slowly looked at each other, their mood entirely changed and their faces suddenly serious.

"And what, brother, do you make of that?"

"I do not know, Arvain. I do not know, but I am not sure I like it. She was genuinely surprised and even a little alarmed."

"Indeed." Arvain looked at his brother for a moment. "Well? Should we tell Aragorn?"

"Let me think on it. The Rohirrim do not arrive until the day after tomorrow, so there is no immediate hurry. I shall mull this over, but yes, I think King Elessar should be told."

"You think something has occurred back home?" Arvain was sounding genuinely concerned.

"No, not yet. We would have had word by now if it had. Perhaps something has yet to occur? We left men behind us, it is true, but a mere handful and many of them elderly, sick or young. Most of the strongest and best amongst us all rode south. If there is any danger…"

"But she said it was nothing."

Halladan gave his brother a meaningful look. "She has had to carry secrets all this time, brother. There may be reasons why she withholds this from us now. No, the more I think of this, the more I think the King should be told and told as soon as possible."

"But we are not certain."

"He is wiser than either of us, Arvain. He will know how best to act on this, or if to act at all."

"I agree."

"In which case," Halladan said, knocking out his pipe on the flagstones, "let us go and find him."

Word had clearly spread amongst the few who knew of Penny's story, and all who knew of course well understood (or could guess) both her desire to stay as well as the relief certainty (one way or the other) must have brought her. They were happy for her, for all sorts of reasons. Elladan cut in and insisted he dance with her after Lindir, Erestor murmured something in her ear about being glad for her sake when Elladan brought her over to the side to find a cup of wine for them both, and Galadriel, passing by with her husband on their way to dance, smiled warmly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Penny did not notice Arvain and Halladan enter the Hall of Feasts and make their way over to Aragorn. Gandalf and Elrond were with him, but so were Faramir and one or two other nobles. Halladan murmured something in Aragorn's ear who glanced at him, reading his face, then nodded and wordlessly rose from his seat. He walked over to one side as Halladan spoke quietly to him, Aragorn listening intently all the while.

The two talked for a few moments, Aragorn clearly asking questions and Halladan asking a few in return. Aragorn looked up, thoughtful and his expression serious. Gandalf caught his look and furrowed his brows as if to ask him what the matter was. There was the faintest, almost imperceptible tilt of the head from Aragorn by way of reply, asking him to come over. Gandalf was on his feet immediately and, no doubt on the silent prompting of Gandalf, Elrond was only a second behind him.

As they joined Aragorn, Halladan and Arvain, and then made to leave the Hall through a back door, Elrond turned, scanning the room for someone. One dance had just finished and another about to begin. Celeborn was smiling at his wife, asking her if she would care for another, when he looked in Elrond's direction, as if he had sensed he was being looked for. Whether Elrond was able to throw his mind that far, or simply long years of knowing each other so well was enough for Celeborn to immediately read his son-in-law's expression, Celeborn murmured quietly to Galadriel, handed her over to Elrohir to take the next dance and made his way through the crowd to come and join the others.

A little time later they were all in an antechamber together. It was a rather large room with a high, beamed roof, heavy furniture and tall windows set high in one wall opposite the door. Outside a long, wide corridor and hallway opened out on one side onto the main square, the wall giving way to pillars that opened onto a flight of low steps down to the flagstones.

"So you think it may be significant?" Halladan was asking.

"I do indeed. There is something she has resolutely kept hidden even from both Lord Elrond and Mithrandir here."

"I knew it had nothing to do with the elves. At the same time I felt it was something relatively near to home." Elrond was looking grave. "If it concerns the Dunedain…"

"Or the North as a whole, perhaps?"

Everyone turned to look at Gandalf but he said nothing more.

"Do you think we should question her?"

"We have no choice, Arvain."

"I doubt you will get anything out of her," Gandalf said quietly. "I think she is resolute. She doubts her own judgment in this matter, that is true, but I suspect she cannot see any other course of action. Did we not advise her to keep silent before the War?"

"But Sauron is fallen, Mithrandir. It is hardly the same situation."

Again Gandalf remained silent, and Celeborn's comment remained unchallenged.

"Shall I go and fetch her?" Arvain was looking at Aragorn as he said this.

Aragorn nodded. "Yes. Yes, if you please, Arvain."

So it was that about ten minutes later Penny spotted Arvain heading her way through the throng. She grinned and he smiled back, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that told her something was up.

"Is anything amiss, Arvain?"

"No, no. I have been sent to find you. The King is asking for you."

"Oh?"

She looked at him and he smiled once more, reassuring her, but there was something…

She had no chance to mull it over as Arvain was already heading back the way he had come, so she hurriedly handed Celebdor her cup and went to catch up with him.

Arvain did not say a word as they crossed the courtyard.

"Arvain, are you upset with me?"

"No."

Again that slightly forced smile. What had got into him?

"What does the King want of me, do you know?" It could not be an invitation to another quiet gathering since nearly everyone else was in the Hall as far as she could tell.

However, Arvain did not reply. He simply hurried up the low steps towards the pillars along one side of the block of buildings north of the Citadel.

"Arvain?"

She touched his arm to stop him as he turned left at the top of the steps.

"Arvain? What is the matter?"

He looked down at her.

"Nothing… I hope. Come."

And he turned, leading her down the corridor to a large heavy door where he knocked, waiting for a reply even as he glanced over his shoulder and beckoned for her to hurry up and join him.

Penny was not sure she liked the look of this.

Then, when Arvain opened the door, ushering her in ahead of him, and she saw both who was waiting for her and the expressions on their faces, she _knew_ she did not like the look of it.

Not at all.

Given Halladan and Arvain were there, she could guess what this was about. She halted, feeling angry that this had been sprung on her but also worried about what she should or should not say and exactly how hard they were likely to press her.

Behind her Arvain closed the door. As he walked around her and into the room to go and stand beside his brother, Penny glared resentfully at him. He caught her eye and did seem vaguely apologetic, but she dropped her gaze to the floor as soon as she realised the rest were looking at her.

"Ah, Pen-ii," Aragorn was sounding warm and pleasant, "Thank you for joining us. Will you take a seat?" He indicated an empty chair beside Elrond.

She smiled thinly, trying to look gracious and as if she had no clue as to why she was there. She slowly crossed over to them and sat down. She glanced up at Halladan, standing behind Gandalf. He looked back at her levelly, not unkindly but certainly seriously, and there was a hint of concern on his face.

"You will forgive this impromptu meeting, Pen-ii, and it may be we are worrying unnecessarily, but, well, how shall I put this…?"

"I think Halladan and Arvain here," Gandalf cut over the top of Aragorn, "were concerned that you felt the wrong decision had been made in keeping many of the Dunedain here for a little while longer."

Did they, now?

"Apparently you seemed surprised that they were not to travel north, and that worried them."

She could not blame them, but she was still furious – at herself as much as them. At the same time this hit too close to the bone for her to glare up at Halladan or Arvain since they were actually right, after all.

Damn Dunedain and their intuitive insight! They were nearly as bad as bloody elves!

She stared at the floor tiles in front of her.

"It is not for me to have an opinion one way or the other," she said as calmly and non-commitally as she could. "Wiser minds than mine have made a decision and I am sure it is the correct one. I know nothing of the Dunedain, their future or their history. You all know that."

Her tone was taut, polite and strained which only went to confirm to everyone there that they were probably right in at least some of their assumptions and they had hit a raw nerve. Glances were exchanged. Halladan's brow furrowed slightly, his alarm showing clearly on his face and matched by Aragorn's own expression.

Elrond sighed and leaned forward in his chair.

"Pen-ii, I know I have asked you this many times, and I have not pressed you on it in a good long while, not since we left Imladris, in fact. Forgive me, but is there nothing more you wish to tell us? You know we know there is something more that you have withheld from us, be it good or bad. Have we hit near the mark? Would it not be best to tell us, help us to make the right decisions?"

Penny glared at the floor tile in front of her as if she would burn a hole in it. How dare they? How dare they put her in this position? How dare they bundle her in here, put pressure on her like this!

"Do not be angry, Pen-ii." Celeborn, seated on the other side of Aragorn from Gandalf, could see the expression on her face. "This is not unreasonable of us. Sauron is fallen, the danger is passed. It was one thing to risk his fall, but another to possibly endanger lives…"

"I know of no lives in danger," she said quickly. It was true… in a fashion.

"But there is a risk?" Halladan was speaking in earnest. "And it is back home? Tell us, Pen-ii! Please!"

She closed her eyes. She would not give in to this. She would not. Emotional blackmail or not, she had to stay resolute…

"Pen-ii, if something has occurred or is yet to occur in Eriador, then I would ask you to tell me. It is my realm, and those are my people, my kinsmen."

This was not fair of Aragorn, Penny decided. Not fair at all!

"I have a duty to them and I love them dearly. If they are in any danger…"

"_Stop it!_"

There was silence, and her voice echoed off the rafters.

"You cannot do this to me! I will not let you!"

Still she refused to look up at any of them, scared she might crack at any moment, torn as she was between desperately wanting to tell them, warn them, have them do anything to stop the Shire being destroyed and yet… and yet not trusting them to be ruthless enough, to slaughter in cold blood just on her say-so.

She rounded on Elrond.

"This is just like when I told you about the Balrog in Moria. It took all my strength of will not to tell you about Mithrandir's fall, and even then you were furious with me. I shall never forget that, Elrond. And it may be you will all be furious with me once more, if you are not already, but of all the options open to me the only one I can choose is silence. Do not press me. I am close to breaking and I cannot think but that would end in disaster."

"Pen-ii…" Elrond began.

"No."

"Pen-ii, this is…" Aragorn was sterner in tone.

"No!"

"Will you not even confirm that something happens in the North? That the Dunedain are needed?" Halladan was looking at her with something close to anger in his eye.

"No, Halladan, I will not. I will not confirm or deny anything. I will not even confirm or deny that whatever is to occur does so in the North because whatever I deny will lead you to alternative conclusions. I cannot risk that. This is not my choice to make, but I must make it. I would prefer not to have this decision, but I do, and so I must decide. If you guess at it and change your decisions based on your own foresight or intuition, then so be it – that is not my affair, but I will not, I _will not_ be bullied into speaking when my heart tells me it is utterly the wrong thing to do."

She was getting desperate now. She was angry, frustrated and worried as hell she was not doing the right thing.

Aragorn had opened his mouth to say something, but Celeborn stayed him, holding up his hand.

"Then we must respect your decision, Pen-ii. You had to hold your tongue before over the deaths of many, over acts of darkness and danger but all for a higher purpose. We can only trust it is for the same reasons now."

She looked at him gratefully. "I am desperate to tell you. Believe me. I do not make this choice easily."

"I know. I realise that. It may be we have some foresight over what you may tell us."

Yes, indeed, given the gift Galadriel gave to Sam in Lothlorien.

"Perhaps."

"Come. I think this meeting has served little purpose other than to frustrate us all and upset Lady Pen-ii." Gandalf stood. "Forgive us, Pen-ii. You were most clear to me this afternoon about your intention in this matter, and I did warn them that you were resolute. You cannot blame us for being concerned when it may touch people who are so dear to us, that is all."

"I do not blame you in the least. I only hope you are not too angry with me."

"Not at all, Pen-ii," Gandalf replied, and Celeborn murmured his agreement. Penny noted the others stayed silent, however.

She could not move. She was raging, desperate, worried and upset. Elrond and Celeborn stood and walked over to the door with Gandalf. Arvain exchanged a glance with his brother and Aragorn, shook his head and then walked across to the large table at one end of the room, resting his hands on the top, bowing his head and sighing heavily. Halladan had not yet moved and Penny could not bear to look at him. She was worried if she did she would find only anger and reproach in his eyes.

"Come, Pen-ii. Mithrandir is right. Let us return to the Hall." Aragorn slowly got to his feet as he spoke. "If you think it best we do not know, then so be it. We cannot force it out of you, after all." He attempted a laugh as he said this, but it had a hollow ring to it. "If it has nothing to do with the Dunedain, then Elbereth be praised, and if they are to be tested, then one can only hope good will come of it. There, that is my saying on the matter." He held out his hand out in a gesture to indicate she should rise and leave the room ahead of him. She nodded and gave a half-hearted smile.

As she walked to the door, her brain was whirring like mad. She could not leave it like this. The Dunedain had to go north and soon. Would they now still remain behind a month or more? What state would Eriador be in by the time they reached their home? Imladris was near enough empty, and while the elves would defend their borders once they got home, they would not be that interested in defending half of Aragorn's realm on his behalf, on that Penny was fairly certain.

In front of her, Gandalf had held the door open for Elrond and Celeborn before following them out into the corridor. Behind her Aragorn and Halladan were following her together, while Arvain had yet to move from the table.

She hesitated.

Behind her Aragorn and Halladan stopped.

"Pen-ii?"

She turned to find Aragorn looking at her sharply.

"I…"

If she could talk to him alone, then… After all, he would not be there when they met Saruman, so perhaps he could advise her…

"Wait one moment, Pen-ii," Aragorn said rather too loudly for it to be solely for Penny's benefit. "Perhaps we might be well served if I spoke to you alone. No, no, you stay, Halladan, you may be able to help me gently persuade Lady Pen-ii to be more forthcoming."

Penny looked alarmed as Aragorn strode past her to the door, nodding out to the slightly astonished trio in the corridor and then firmly shutting the door on them. He turned back to Penny, and she was surprised to see the hint of a smile on his face.

"Now then, what is it that you might be prepared to tell me but you are not willing to say to those three?"

She blinked at him. Behind her Arvain had turned round from the table, and now both he and Halladan were staring at Aragorn with obvious astonishment.

"Is that not the case? Or have I misjudged this completely?"

"No," Penny said slowly. "No, but…"

"But?" He was walking back to the group of chairs, indicating that she should join him.

"I cannot tell you everything."

He stopped, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Please, your Majesty, I would do so, but…" She sighed. "I would gladly tell you, but you would have to swear to me that you would not say one word to anyone, that it would not go outside of this room. You would have to swear you would not tell Mithrandir or Lord Elrond, or Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel… Perhaps not even Queen Arwen, given she is related to them. I would not want to ask that of you. It would be unjust and inappropriate of me to do so."

Aragorn was looking fairly gobsmacked it had to be said.

"But why, Pen-ii?"

"Do not ask me that, Halladan." She turned to him. "Please."

"Then what _can_ you tell me?" Aragorn was seated, his composure regained once more.

"Why are the Dunedain still here?"

The three men looked at each other.

"So it does concern us!" Arvain walked briskly back to join the rest. "We were right!"

"You are not answering my question."

"You have the right to ask it?" Halladan asked coolly. "Our King asked us to stay, and we stayed. Some of us were injured, some of us were in no hurry to return home to those grieving the fallen, some of us felt, rightly so, that the danger was past and we could afford to take our time."

"Forgive me, Halladan, you said to me you have left some protecting the north, but are they enough? Imladris is empty and how many Dunedain still roam the wilds? The rangers are gone. They rode south. Who is there to protect the people now? They never appreciated your work in the past. They little knew or cared how much you did for them all, unbidden and unrewarded, but now… now they notice that the rangers are gone. They miss you, or they will do soon. You should return."

"YOU DARED TO KEEP THIS FROM ME!" Aragorn practically exploded. "I am King of Eriador, Pen-ii! It is my duty to protect all those that live there, be they of my kin or no!"

"Aragorn…"

"Halladan, she should have told us this from the first!"

"He is right, Halladan."

Penny had long worried about this, and to have someone ranting at her, basically telling her she had in fact done exactly the wrong thing, was a rather upsetting thing to hear.

"With all due respect, King Elessar, do you think you could not have worked it out for yourself?"

Halladan and Arvain looked at her, appalled and agog. Aragorn was furious.

"HOW _DARE_ YOU!"

He was on his feet and Penny now joined him.

"WHEN ORTHANC EMPTIED, JUST WHERE WERE THEY MEANT TO GO!"

He blinked at her.

"What?"

Arvain and Halladan looked horrified.

"Uruk-hai? In Eriador!"

"Sweet Elbereth, no!"

"I did not say that. As far as I know, they were all slaughtered in the battle in Rohan. Some may have escaped, but I doubt it. There were others in Orthanc, though. Half-breeds. Half-breeds and men in the thrall of Saruman. They could not go south or east since they only would have found Rohirrim or Gondorians. They could only travel one way, caught between the sea and the mountains: the Greenway."

Halladan sat heavily in a chair, his head in his hands. Arvain was looking stunned. Aragorn was still staring at her, his mind whirring and his face ashen.

"They were needed."

"I know, your Majesty."

"I asked for them because they were needed."

"Indeed. They _were_ needed: to join you in the fight in southern Gondor, to take the ships, to inspire the people on those ships and to provide a third flank on the Pelennor once you landed and then lift the hearts of those already there who had nearly given up hope and thought the battle lost. They were needed… but now they are needed back home."

He nodded and slowly moved round to the back of his chair, taking hold of it with one hand.

"I have had no word that affairs are that bad."

"It may be they are still making their way slowly north. It may be that, compared to the orcs and wolves that were prowling round before the War that matters, if not back to how they were, are not out of control as yet. I cannot tell you. All I can tell you is what the people of Eriador describe happened to them – that many strangers and bad men came up the Greenway and suddenly everyone wondered where the rangers had gone since no one had seen them in a long while."

A silence fell. Penny sat down. She looked round at the three of them and realised that, as grieved as they were to hear this news, she was glad she had told them.

"I am sorry. I had assumed the Dunedain were travelling north with us. Since I only know the story from the time when the elves reach Imladris onwards, it had not occurred to me the Dunedain would arrive much later than Lord Elrond and his household. Perhaps I should not have said anything. Perhaps you are meant to arrive later… I do not know. I am glad I have told you, I am glad that you know, but I am worried. Perhaps I have changed something that was actually meant to be."

"Honestly, Pen-ii? I can tell you that I would have insisted the Dunedain ride north with Lord Elrond even if you had not told me what you have. That you were as astonished as you were was enough for me to make that decision even when Halladan first told me of it. You have changed nothing by revealing this, only confirmed that, as you say, my kinsmen are needed in their homes and the surrounding land. Those we left behind would have been enough to protect our own. It is the others, the men and hobbits of Eriador, that would have been left exposed."

"They never appreciated the work you did for them."

There was a wry smile on Aragorn's face. "Perhaps not."

"Father always complained of it."

"And yet we still protected them, Arvain," Halladan pointed out. "We knew they needed looking after even if they did not realise it." He looked at Penny. "Thank you. Thank you for telling us this. For myself, it will help to ride north with a purpose ahead of me."

Arvain nodded and Aragorn chuckled at the pair of them. Penny was still worried she had said too much.

"As for the rest," Aragorn was saying, "I do not doubt it is specifics related to what you have just said, no? No matter. I can tell the others if they question my change of heart what you have said with little fear, I think, though I shall try and maintain you have told me nothing. And as for the Dunedain, though they may guess I have had some foresight, if necessary they will accept that I have read between the lines in news from home and am concerned there is trouble brewing. There is no point in sending them any sooner than with the elves. Besides, we would all wish to give the fallen King of Rohan his due, on that point I insist."

"I am so very sorry."

"Do not apologise. You have done the right thing. Whatever occurs then if the Dunedain are there even if they cannot stop it, they can prevent it getting worse and can strive to overcome it. I trust them implicitly. Any one of them is worth many ordinary men."

"I know. That much is very clear in our tales."

There was an amused expression on Aragorn's face. "Well, I am glad to know we got some recognition at last, but then your abject apologies to Halbarad over the way you behaved with him were proof enough of that."

Penny tried to join in with the quiet chuckles, but did not quite manage it.

"He would be pleased you have told us, Pen-ii. And that you are striving to do what is best, no matter how difficult it is for you."

"I agree, Halladan." Arvain nodded. "It must be hard for you to try and make such decisions by yourself, but I am glad we know and we can ride north and prepare ourselves."

"Well, then, the decision is made." Aragorn made for the door and Arvain got to his feet.

Penny remained seated, however, and as Halladan pushed himself upright with this stick he looked questioningly at her.

"Are you coming?"

"Yes… in a moment. Can I stay here for a little while? It has all been a little…"

"But of course, Pen-ii," Aragorn replied, already at the door.

She turned in her seat. "Forgive me, your Majesty. I was quite rude just now."

"As was I, I do not doubt," he waved his hand and grinned, "Emotions were running high and you made your point, so please think no more about it."

"I will be along presently," Halladan said. "I think there is something I need to discuss with Lady Pen-ii."

"But of course." Aragorn opened the door. "Arvain?"

Arvain was looking at his brother, as if wondering whether to stay or not.

"Please, Arvain," Halladan indicated a chair beside him, "after all it concerns you as much as I."

"No. No, Halladan, it is for you to tell. It was you he spoke to after all."

Halladan seemed a little disconcerted, but accepted his brother's decision.

"We will wait outside for you. Take your time." So saying, Aragorn and Arvain left the room to join the other three who were waiting patiently outside.

Penny was looking at Halladan as he sat back down in a chair next to her.

"There was something you wanted to say? If it is about all this, then I am sorry I alarmed you. Truly, I am. I can only guess how distressing this must be for you all…"

"No, no. It is not that. It is related to it, perhaps, but, no, do not apologise. All is well." Halladan smiled.

"Well, then?"

"Pen-ii, if we are to return north and for such a purpose… well, it changes matters a little. Arvain and I had not come to a decision as to how long we would stay here in Gondor, and in part that was because we were waiting for you to make your decision on where you wished to stay."

"Me?"

Halladan took a deep breath, stared at the floor for a moment and then, glancing back at Penny, he continued.

"As you know, Father told us all about you, about how he had found you, what he thought of you at first, how he watched with increasing pride as you changed and settled into life in Imladris. I… I do not know if he ever managed to convey this to you, but he said to us that he had begun to look on you as something like the daughter he never had."

Penny's throat was tight. She had not known what to expect Halladan to say, but she had not expected this.

"He was much moved by the fact that you had never known your father, never had such a figure in your life. In some ways, having been the one to first find you and look after you as you travelled to Imladris he had already begun to think of you as his responsibility, his charge. Then, after the revelations of your situation, he realised that, after the War, you would need someone to look after you, to become the equivalent of your family. A woman by herself… It is not possible in our society. She needs a husband, a family, menfolk to protect her and on whom she can rely. He made a vow to himself that he would take on that role."

Halladan paused, glancing at her once more in time to catch her as she wiped a tear away from her cheek.

"He never told you any of this, did he?"

She shook her head.

"We would have become something like brother and sister."

He smiled at her, and she tried to smile back but it hurt too much to know Halbarad had thought so much of her, had cared and worried about her to this extent.

"Forgive me if this is upsetting for you, Pen-ii. I have been waiting for the right moment to tell you these things. He would have wanted you to know."

She nodded. "I understand, Halladan. Please… continue."

"He had made that vow to himself, as I say. He told us about it, all three of us, since it would no doubt affect us. We needed to know he had made such a commitment and understand his reasoning behind it." He paused. "Of course, when he made that promise, he did not know he would not survive the War to see it through." He looked at her, studying her face for a moment before he spoke, and when he did his voice seemed thick at first. "When… when he was dying…" He coughed and cleared his throat. "…he made me swear that I would take on his role as guardian to you, that I would fulfil his duty by you. I did so gladly, Pen-ii, even though I had never met you. I had heard enough about you and I trusted Father's judgement implicitly… He had not needed to ask, in truth - we would have done it even if he had not mentioned it."

Penny was staring at him open-mouthed, trying not to dissolve into tears in front of him.

When he was _dying_? He had been that damn insistent about it that…?

She bowed her head, putting her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back her emotions. Halladan said nothing, just sighed heavily and gave her a few minutes to recover herself and take in what he had just told her.

At last she sniffed and took a deep breath, wiping her cheeks as surreptitiously as she could. She looked up to find him smiling sadly at her, his face taut with deep emotion.

"I thank you for telling me this, Halladan. It… it moves me much to know he worried about me and took that burden on himself. I thank you also for what you promised him and for the friendship you have shown me since I met you."

The smile lightened a little on his face. "I am glad you consider me a friend. As I do you."

She shook her head a little, as if still at a loss.

"I am not sure exactly what my father intended," Halladan continued, "but I imagine he would have had you come to live with us or with the Dunedain at least. Arvain and I agreed that, so long as you agreed to our guardianship, we would do our best to be near wherever you chose to stay. We would be welcome here in Gondor, and King Elessar, of course, would be happy to have his kinsmen nearby, indeed has already told us all that any who choose to come and live here will be given land and income. Equally if you stayed in Imladris, you would be close to us, but then you have not yet decided. If you choose to stay in Gondor, then you have to understand that we have to ride north and we do not know how long we will be gone. However, I want you to know that we will return, both of us, to fulfil our duty and to act as protectors on our father's behalf. Aragorn would stand as guardian in our stead until that time, rest assured on that point. This is why I needed to explain the situation to you."

Penny was bewildered by all this. She was touched, grateful, but it was a lot to take in all at once.

"Halladan, I do not want you to feel beholden to me in any way." She held up her hand to stop him interrupting. "No, let me explain. I am touched and grateful for your kindness and thoughtfulness. I said what I did not to belittle the fealty you hold to your father, nor the honourable kindness you would extend to me. I simply want to tell you that you must not feel as if you have to do something that you do not wish to do or would cause you difficulty. If it is in my power to do such a thing, then I release you from your promise. Do not think ill of me for saying such a thing, I…"

He suddenly took her hand in both of his.

"Pen-ii," he said, and his tone was as firm as his hold on her hand, "whether it is in your power or no, I stand by my promise. I shall stand by it to my dying breath. When I told Arvain and Hirvell of it, they agreed to it instantly: no argument, no debate, no question. You need someone to look after you, Pen-ii, to help you find your way. The elves would do it gladly, but… well, you really need a fellow mortal, and the elves will not stay overlong now things have changed. You cannot remain alone, it is impossible. I thank you, but I am resolute."

She could see the determination in his eye. She felt a little guilty that perhaps he and Arvain felt lumbered with her thanks to their father, but at the same time she felt a rush of gratitude towards them both, and to Halbarad also. She felt her eyes filling with tears once more and tried to smile to ward them off. He smiled back at her, nodding and letting go his hold on her hand as if they had come to a silent agreement which, in some ways, they probably had. She noted he did not move, though, did not make to stand but hesitated as if there was still more to say. She tilted her head a little, looking at him questioningly.

"There is something else you should know… while we are talking about this, I mean." He seemed uncertain, suddenly, as if unsure as how best to proceed. "He… he asked me to tell you something."

Penny was suddenly very aware of her own heartbeat. Did he again mean as Halbarad lay dying? Surely not?

"He told me to tell you…"

He swallowed.

"He told me to tell you that you were not to blame yourself."

Penny stared at him.

"That it was his choice, that it was not your fault."

Penny felt a cold horror grip her. He could not mean what she thought he meant. No. No, no, no. She refused to believe it.

"He said to tell you that… that Lord Elrond told him. Lord Elrond told him everything."

It was as if time stood still.

"Pen-ii?"

Penny had gone absolutely white. She felt like she was in shock. She was not even sure she was breathing properly. In fact the more she focused on it the more she became aware she was holding her breath, or was short of breath, or her chest was tight, or _something_.

And then it came: a great, heaving sob as she dragged in breath, her hands hovering in midair for a moment as if she was uncertain whether to cover her face, or leap out of her chair, or tear her hair out. Tears spilled down her cheeks, hot and fast.

Halladan, watching her completely break down in front of him, was immediately worried he had done the wrong thing. His father had only wanted to ease her pain, he knew, but this was probably worse than any guilt or blame she may have held on to since it was clear that, just like himself when his father had spoken to him, she had had no idea Elrond had told his father that she had known he would die.

She looked at him, and he could see it was as if she wanted to say something but had no idea how to form the words.

Then suddenly she was on her feet and running for the door.

There was something in her expression as she did so, as if all that distress had focused itself into blind rage, and that alarmed Halladan, especially since he knew it was not directed at him. He grabbed his stick and hurried after her, calling her name.

Penny had reached the door and flung it open, looking out into the corridor. There, some way down and almost level with the pillars, were Aragorn and Gandalf, and only a little way in front of them stood Elrond, Celeborn and Arvain chatting quietly.

She had opened the door with some violence and all turned to look as they heard the noise. It was clear even in the half-light of the torch brackets both that Penny was distressed and furious, and that her attention was on only one of them. Elrond furrowed his brows in astonishment and the others, turning to look at each other at first to see which of them her rage was focused on, then looked back and forth between the two or else exchanged puzzled glances.

Halladan, catching up with her at last, grasped her by the arm and attempted to either pull her back into the room or at least stop her from striding forward.

"Pen-ii, no. Please. Not while you are this angry, this upset."

She stood there, shaking with fury, breathing hard, desperately trying to contain herself, but not breaking her glare in Elrond's direction.

Elrond, glancing at the others and seeing they looked as bewildered as he felt, walked towards her.

"Is anything amiss, Pen-ii?" he asked, concerned. "I have angered you in some way?"

Still she said nothing, but her face was contorted in what was obviously a supreme effort to keep her feelings under control and bite her tongue.

Behind Elrond, Arvain looked questioningly at his brother but Halladan broke eye-contact with him, muttering to Penny that she had best come back inside the room and calm down.

Arvain had his answer.

"Pen-ii, I think I have a right to know why you seem so furious with me." Elrond's tone was edging towards the stern as he stopped in front of her.

Penny nodded several times, as if screwing up the courage to give him a piece of her mind.

"Pen-ii?"

"You had _no_ right."

She spoke slowly and quietly, her jaw tight and her teeth clenched. Elrond's expression instantly became dark as he heard the tone she was using with him.

"You had no_ right_ to lay that burden on him. How _dare_ you? I told you what I did so that, if there was any way at all, you might help me stop him riding south. I knew it was hopeless, I knew it was stupid, I knew it was the wrong thing to do… but I never _dreamed_ you would betray me to him!"

Behind her Halladan gently pulled on her arm, saying her name insistently.

"Pen-ii, leave this. Please. This is not the way…"

But she was not listening. Now the dam had broken there was no stopping the flood.

"And it is not even your betrayal of my trust that makes me so furious, so absolutely… _furious_." She took a deep, shuddering breath in through her nose. She was struggling to maintain control, her voice beginning to crack madly and tears threatening to fall. "It is the fact that he then carried that burden with him all that time, all the way south. We mortals accept death as part and parcel of who we are – from the day we are born we know that we will die. We can live in hope that we will live long lives, but we cannot know: we can only hope. Every soldier that goes into battle knows he may not live to see the dawn, but he can still _hope_. And _you_ took that away from him!" She had tears streaming down her face. "_You_… you gave him a certainty beyond certainty. For all your insight and foresight and visions, you can never _know_. But _I _knew. I _knew_!" And she jabbed at her sternum so savagely she bruised herself, though she did not feel it at the time. "And he knew that if it came from me, that there was no question of it. I told him about Boromir, did he tell you that? Did you know? And the moment he met Aragorn and found that to be true, it would have confirmed to him that what I knew, I knew _for certainty_. He carried that burden with him all that time, Elrond, and that was _your_ doing. How _dare_ you do that? You, of all people! You, who has suffered so much! You, out of all immortals, should have known …"

She stopped herself, reining in her emotions with a monumental effort. She closed her eyes tight to try and stop the tears from falling. Her hands were clenched tight into fists as she fought to keep it all in, her nails digging into her palms.

And all the while Halladan's hand stayed holding her upper arm, his grip looser now and more a comfort, a reminder that she must not let go. Halladan himself felt desperate. He was embarrassed that he had clearly been the trigger of her behaviour let alone that she was speaking to Lord Elrond in such a manner. At the same time the strength of sympathy she had for his father moved him greatly.

Down the corridor the scene was being watched with some concern. Penny had kept her voice down through most of it so much of what was said was missed, though snatches could be heard by all. It was clear, however, that she was speaking her mind even if she was trying to keep herself under control; and, no matter what Penny thought was the case, nothing Lord Elrond could have done could warrant such behaviour. Their expressions were grave.

Elrond was livid and it showed in his face. He was not used to being spoken to in this fashion, for all that Penny was trying to restrain herself.

"I of all immortals, Pen-ii?" Elrond's glare was hard, his voice cold with rage as he prompted her to continue, to finish her sentence.

"No matter. I have said what I wished to say."

Penny did not look at him as she spoke. Not out of any sense of shame, but rather in an attempt to control herself and not be drawn into saying things she may regret later.

"Come, Pen-ii, please. You have said more than enough."

Halladan was again pulling on her arm. He could feel her resistance was less than previously and she began to turn.

"No."

Elrond reached out for the same arm that Halladan was holding and stayed the movement. As he pulled Penny back to face him, Halladan's hand fell away, deferring to the greater authority.

"I want to know what you would say to me." Still that voice as hard as steel with anger. "I want to hear you say it, even though I can guess near enough."

"Lord Elrond…" Halladan was nearly pleading.

Penny was glaring back at Elrond once more.

"I, of all immortals, should know better because..?"

And in that moment Penny threw caution to the wind. So much had been unsaid, too often she walked on tiptoes, never quite said what she felt or thought, worried and tried to conform. She had done her damnedest to fit in, to follow their mores, to restrain herself and not even speak of all she knew and all because they had advised her so.

And here he was, the one who had laid such an intolerable burden on Halbarad's shoulders, goading her.

Well, _stuff_ him.

"You of all immortals know what it is to live with the knowledge of certain death hanging over those you love."

"_Pen-ii!_" Halladan's voice was sharp in her ear, but it was useless.

"I used to near weep for you, you know. Truly. You lost both your parents, your brother chose mortality, your daughter has chosen the same fate, and you nearly lost your wife."

The expression on Elrond's face was extraordinary.

"You have suffered, will suffer terribly… So, all the more reason for you not to have laid that burden on him. You should have understood more than anyone what you were doing to him." She shook her head as if unable to find the words to express her contempt for him in that moment. "I will never forgive you for that. Never. What you did was…"

She had no words. She pushed Elrond out of the way, an action that had everyone else watching gasp and look appalled, and began to walk down the corridor towards the square.

Halladan was stock still in the doorway, immobile, unable to believe what she had just said. Penny had referred, directly, to matters that were rarely spoken of, or certainly not outside of intimate circles.

Elrond was standing to one side, his head bowed. He seemed to be having some difficult controlling his emotions. Then he turned, lifting his head as he took a deep breath and called Penny's name. She stopped, but did not turn round.

The others down the corridor, who all knew Elrond well, could see from the expression on his face that whatever Penny had said it had upset and angered him greatly.

"You should know, Pen-ii, that he had foreseen it himself. He came to me about it. He asked me directly if you had said anything. I could not lie to him."

It was like a slap in the face. Penny slowly turned to face him, stunned, all her anger gone in an instant.

"I loved him dearly. I told you that at the time, and any here could attest to it. It grieved me much to tell him, but he insisted. He could see I was trying to hold something back from him. No matter how much I tried to avoid telling him, I had no choice." He paused, glancing up at Arvain and then back at Halladan. "Forgive me."

There was an awful silence.

The others, who had not heard all of what had been said, were now busily filling in the gaps in their heads. Penny was rooted to the spot. She felt sick. Elrond, still clearly very angry and upset, eventually moved, walking away from the room and down the corridor. As he drew level with Penny he stopped, glaring at her.

"You are right," he murmured, his voice shaking slightly with anger. "I have known great loss. And for you to be so brazen as to… How _dare_ you mention them to me! You think I do not know full well the burden he took with him? I understood absolutely, which is why I did everything I could to avoid telling him. Did it never occur to you I did not tell you I had told him precisely to spare you the pain that knowledge would cause you?"

He looked at her for a moment as if assessing the affect his words had had on her. Then he abruptly turned and strode away, Celeborn immediately following him, calling his name and asking him to wait, to calm down. Aragorn and Gandalf shared a glance, seemingly unable to take in what had just occurred. Halladan, still frozen in the doorway, seemed stricken, and Arvain seemed similarly distressed.

"Pen-ii, just what did you…?"

"No." Gandalf held a hand up and stopped Aragorn, looking dark, as he made to cross over to Penny. "Leave her. Leave them both until they have calmed down. Now is not the time." Then he walked over to Penny. "You have done a grave thing," he said quietly. "I realise you were shocked and upset by what you learnt, but that was no excuse. That said, what has been done is not irreparable, but you _will_ apologise to Lord Elrond, is that clear?"

There was no response. Penny, her cheeks wet with tears, had her gaze fixed somewhere on the flagstones in front of her.

"I _said_, 'Is that clear?'" His tone was firm and insistent: he would brook no argument.

Her gaze flickered up to his, and he could immediately see she was terribly distressed, desperately sorry. She nodded. Then her gaze fell down to the floor once more, even as both her hands came to cover her face.

Gandalf walked away, back to Aragorn.

"Come," he said.

Aragorn hesitated, still looking in bewilderment at Penny and then at Halladan and Arvain. Arvain had turned away, one hand resting on the wall as he stared at nothing in particular. However Halladan returned his gaze and nodded, indicating Aragorn should leave, that he would take care of matters here.

"King Elessar," Gandalf called from the steps. Aragorn turned, heading off to join him out in the courtyard.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Many thanks to my beta, mumstheword, who found this most appropriate saying of Aristotle's: "Anyone can become angry – that is easy, but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way – that is not within everybody's power and is not easy."

As ever, my sincere thanks to all those reading and those who take time out to review and let me know their thoughts and responses to the chapters. I do appreciate it. :)


	36. Up A Certain Creek

**Chapter 36** – _"Up A Certain Creek"_

For some moments after Aragorn had walked away, everything was completely silent and still in the dimly lit corridor except for the occasional shuddering breath from Penny.

Eventually Halladan and Arvain looked at each other and read bewilderment in each others' eyes.

"Did you know?" Arvain asked slowly.

"No." Halladan shook his head. "No, I had no idea. If I had known, would I not have told you before now?"

Penny, hearing them, lifted her head and looked questioningly at them both. It was Halladan who explained.

"That Father had some premonition or foresight that he would not survive the War," he said simply.

Penny said nothing. She was devastated. She was at that stage of something like numbness - the pain, confusion and shame were so overwhelming that she could barely function. She felt so horribly ashamed for having upset Elrond, for having spoken to him as she had, and at the same time she was still trying to process everything Halladan had told her, let alone Elrond's explanation. Her head felt like it was about to explode.

In that particular moment, though, more than anything else she was acutely aware that these two young men knew that she had known their father would die, that she had watched him ride south and that the pitiful attempt she had made to save his life had only resulted in him being burdened with that knowledge all the while he travelled.

"I am sorry," she said quietly. "I am so very sorry." And the words felt so pitifully inadequate. "I tried. I… I tried and I failed, and it meant Elrond had no choice but to tell him. It is my fault. If I had not told him, then your father would not have… But how could I not try to…?"

God, what a mess! What a stupid, horrible, agonising mess!

There was a sudden movement in the doorway as Halladan came to life at last and strode over to her.

"No, Pen-ii." Leaning on his stick with one hand, he took her firmly by the arm with his other hand and looked at her. "You must not do this. Father said what he did precisely so you would not blame yourself, so you would not feel this way."

"But how can I _not_ feel this way, Halladan!" She looked up at him. "Lord Elrond had no choice, and _I_ put him in that position!"

Halladan, his face contorted in sympathy and sorrow, had no words.

"Pen-ii, if you felt you had to tell Lord Elrond, then…" Arvain was trying to sound as comforting as he could. He also crossed over to join her as he spoke, and Halladan let his hand fall away from its hold on Penny as he did so. "Besides, if Father had foreknowledge… well, let us just say that I have never known foreknowledge not to come to pass. He knew. If he had foreknowledge, he knew, no matter what Lord Elrond may or may not have told him."

His voice had become a little thick and gravelly as he spoke. He cleared his throat and dropped his gaze for a moment.

"Arvain is right, Pen-ii."

Penny shook her head. She was not convinced. "I will not forgive myself for this."

"That is what you said to Lord Elrond just now," Halladan pointed out. Arvain looked shocked, raising his eyebrows at Halladan in surprise.

"I know," Penny muttered, feeling utterly miserable and staring at the floor. "It was unforgivable. Everything I said to him I should have been saying to myself, though I little realised it."

"I did try and stop you."

"I tried to stop myself."

"Well, yes, he did push you a little…"

"What exactly was said?"

Halladan looked at Arvain for a moment. "I am not sure that I…"

"I basically told him he had no right to tell your father, that foreknowledge was one thing but what I know I know for certainty and that is a completely different matter, that it was unforgivable of him, that he should have known better and that he should not have dared to do such a thing."

Arvain looked appalled.

"Pen-ii, what were you _thinking_?"

But Penny did not hear him.

"But it was me that did that to him," she said in a very small voice. "I tried so very hard to try and stop it, and I just made it worse…"

"You tried to stop us riding south?" Arvain looked confused as he interrupted her.

Penny looked at him. They did not know, then? That only confirmed her suspicion that Halbarad had mentioned this only as he lay dying.

Which just seemed to make it all worse and Penny was not sure why.

"No," said Halladan, replying to Arvain's question, "I think she tried to persuade Lord Elrond to prevent Father from riding south if he possibly could. Is that correct, Pen-ii?"

Penny nodded. Then, trying to keep control of herself as best she could, she explained slowly and quietly what those last few days before the Dunedain had left Imladris had been like for her: how she had battled and struggled within herself, uncertain of what to say (if anything), knowing any attempt she made would be wholly futile for all sorts of reasons and yet desperate to do something, anything that might change what she knew would happen. She had let Boromir walk to his doom, and she could not bear to do the same thing to Halbarad without some sort of fight.

"Lord Elrond only told me what I had already told myself: that even if your father knew, he would still ride south. That Aragorn needed him was enough, let alone that Sauron may fall as a consequence." She looked up at them. "He asked me. Lord Elrond... He asked me if Sauron would fall." She trailed off.

"Father would have told you himself that nothing was more important than that, Pen-ii," Halladan said grimly. "Nothing. No matter the loss."

How could he _say_ that? How could he say that after all he had been through, all he had lost, and seen, and suffered?

"If Sauron had not fallen, Pen-ii," Arvain added, "…well, it does not bear thinking about."

He did not go into detail. Penny could only imagine, and deep down she knew he was right.

"Father could never have stayed behind. It would have broken him," Halladan explained. "He would have considered it a great dishonour, akin to treachery or cowardice. For Aragorn to call for us, for him, and not to respond…? Never! Not Father, nor I, nor Arvain." He paused. "Nor Hirvell either."

Arvain murmured his agreement.

"You did the right thing, Pen-ii," Halladan continued. "That you did what you did, or tried to do… well, I would suspect Father was most touched and moved by your action because I do not doubt that if Lord Elrond had to tell him what you had said, then he would also have told him the circumstances in which you did so. For all it was, perhaps, a futile gesture, it was sincerely meant and you only thought to do good by it, to try and save his life. I thank you for that."

And then Penny remembered the talk Halbarad had had with her, the private farewell he had given her in a dark corridor the night before he had left, when he had told her things she had only half understood about being proud of her and how she should continue to live her life, that it was hard for those left behind, for those who had to grieve… and she finally understood. It really had been a goodbye: a goodbye and an advice, no doubt, for how to cope, how to carry on without him.

The two brothers had seen her expression change, watched as her eyes filled with tears once more.

"Pen-ii?" Halladan's voice was quiet.

"When he last spoke to me before he left Imladris… I have only now realised the significance of it. He was talking of men going to war despite the possibility of death and how hard it was for the women who wait behind…" She looked up at them both. "In his own way he… he was bidding me farewell."

Arvain suddenly reached for her then, taking her into his arms and holding her as her silent tears wet his tunic. Halladan stood beside them both, looking at her as she stared unseeingly past him, his face etched with sorrow. He slid one hand gently down her arm and took her hand in his.

At last she pushed away from Arvain, Halladan released his hold on her hand and she wiped her cheeks.

"Ai, what a mess," she muttered.

"Mithrandir was right," Halladan said. "You must apologise to Lord Elrond."

She nodded, feeling a wrench of shame in her gut. "I know. What I said was inexcusable."

"Oh, I think you had an excuse. Not a good enough one, perhaps, to speak to him in quite such a manner, but you did have reason for your anger, however misguided."

Penny looked at Halladan. Was that supposed to make her feel better?

"What? I am being honest!"

"Such a way with words, brother!" Arvain almost laughed.

"Arvain, you did not hear her!"

"Well, no. I do not think I have never seen Lord Elrond so upset. What did you say to him, Pen-ii? I mean, aside from all you told me just now? There must have been something more than that to get him quite so furious…"

Halladan and Penny said nothing.

Arvain's eyebrows rose. "It was that bad?"

"I did not use bad language, Arvain. Aside from the fact I do not know any in your languages of course…"

"Pen-ii, no one mentions Elros or Celebrian to him," Halladan said quietly, his face stern.

"_What?_" Arvain was shocked.

"Or at least not unless they are not a close intimate of his and even then certainly not in public," Halladan continued. "Nor Queen Arwen's choice. You were fortunate indeed that neither King Elessar nor Lord Celeborn heard you."

"He insisted I tell him what I was thinking, Halladan."

"Even so."

"I was only pointing out that he, of all elves, should have understood most… I was not rejoicing in his pain, I was saying I had always felt for him because of what he had been through…"

"Even so," Halladan insisted.

Arvain was clearly having difficulty processing it all. "You… But I mean… _What?"_

Penny's heart sank as she took in Arvain's reaction.

"Well, I think I can count out Imladris as an option of where to stay," she murmured.

"Ah, now, do not say that. Lord Elrond is nothing if not kind and wise," Halladan said, trying to reassure her. "He will understand what drove you to say what you did and accept your apology with grace and generosity, I do not doubt. As you said, he himself pressed you to speak your mind at the last… though it would have been wiser if you had resisted him, or better yet not to have given him cause to push you in the first place."

"Once Lord Elrond has calmed down he will understand you did not mean to insult him by what you said. You mentioned subjects that are painful to him, true, but that is not in itself offensive, it is merely… unfortunate." Arvain was being remarkably diplomatic. "I feel sure he would still welcome you at Imladris and insist you still consider it as an option."

"I would feel uncomfortable knowing I spoken to him in such a manner and yet was taking advantage of his hospitality. It would not be right."

Arvain tried to throw his brother a look which said he thought Penny had a fair point, but Halladan deliberately avoided his eye.

"I think you are running a little ahead of yourself," Halladan replied, his tone reassuring. "Wait until you have spoken to him. You may be surprised. Yes, he is angry now, and not without reason, it is true, but his anger will subside." He paused, his expression serious. "Ai, Pen-ii, for all I was trying to stop you, as ever you have proved yourself to be as strong-willed as Father always said you were."

"Hey, that is not fair!"

"Is it not? You showed restraint, Pen-ii, and yet you were not restrained enough. It took all your strength of will to not speak at first, and yet you did speak in the end and spoke in a manner ill-befitting the one whom you were addressing. If you had taken time to ask him what had occurred, he could have explained it to you, and there would have been no need for you to have raged at him as you did. There are times when, no matter how angry you are, you must still keep a level head."

"There speaks the seasoned warrior, Pen-ii, and he is right. In battle if you let your passion run away with you, that is when you make mistakes. You must channel that rage, focus it, take control of it rather than have it control you."

"It is all very well for you to talk," Penny muttered. "I imagine you have had training in such things."

"That is true, Pen-ii," Halladan conceded.

"And I think I should point out that not that long ago I would have simply shouted and sworn at him."

"As you did to Father?"

"Well… yes, frankly."

Halladan and Arvain smiled.

"I realise that what I have said is dreadful, Halladan. I do not need you to point it out to me."

"Do you not? What are friends for if not to advise each other even if the other does not wish to hear it?"

There was something in his look as he said this and the near hint of a smile round his mouth that made Penny wonder if he was still talking about her outburst or about something else entirely. Arvain also caught his brother's look and furrowed his brows for a moment but said nothing.

"Not only that…" Halladan paused and suddenly looked distinctly uncomfortable. "This is as much my fault as anyone else's. I should not have told you."

"No! I am glad I know! Besides… he wanted you to tell me, did he not? He asked you to."

"I could have better chosen my moment to do so, though. I simply thought, since I was discussing what else he had said…"

He trailed off and looked helplessly at his brother. For once he did not seem entirely the self-confident, older sibling he usually was.

"I can understand," Arvain said quietly and Halladan looked grateful.

Penny could understand as well, or guess at the possibly unconscious reasons behind it. To have delayed discussing it would have meant Halladan would have had to take himself back to that scene, that moment of his father's death for a second time. She could not blame him for wanting to say it all when he had had the chance.

"This is not your fault, Halladan," she said.

"Well, I apologise nonetheless. I will also do so to Lord Elrond and explain as best I can."

"Do you think I should go and apologise to him now?"

"No!"

Both brothers spoke simultaneously, and with such urgency that Penny was worried. Was Elrond really that angry? She looked at the slightly alarmed expressions on their faces and had her answer.

Oh crap.

Her face fell.

"I shall go and find King Elessar or Mithrandir," Halladan said, "and tell them you wish to apologise at the soonest opportunity. They will be able to suggest when would be the best time to broach it. Perhaps it will be tonight, perhaps tomorrow. I cannot tell you."

"Would… would one of you be there with me?"

The brothers exchanged a glance.

"It would be better if you did this alone, Pen-ii," Arvain said.

"Well, yes, but…" She was genuinely scared Elrond would never forgive her.

"I will come with you," Halladan said.

"We both will," Arvain added. "Even if we have to stay outside the door."

So that was that.

Halladan hurried off down the steps to seek out Aragorn or Gandalf. Arvain and Penny came to sit at the top of the stairs and for a little while they said nothing. Then Arvain spoke.

"Can I ask you something, Pen-ii? Now that this is all out in the open? When you knew of Father, that he would not survive the War, what did you know exactly? Does your tale tell of his fall? Of how it happened? I know your knowledge is quite detailed at times."

"All I knew was that your father held the standard, the one Queen Arwen had made for King Elessar, as you rode onto the Pelennor from the ships. He is then listed amongst only a few names of warriors who would never return home once the battle was over. I knew the battle and that was all."

She glanced at Arvain and he nodded as he stared out onto the square. She was not sure quite what he had expected her to say or how he now felt about what she had told him.

"It was one of the things Lord Elrond pointed out to me: my knowledge could not aid him in any way. I did not know when it would occur within the battle, what enemy would…"

She trailed off. This was not a good idea to talk about these things with someone who, as far as she knew, witnessed the whole thing.

"We protected him to the last, Pen-ii."

"I know. Faelon told me."

"He died knowing we had won the battle. He died peacefully."

Had he? Had he really? Or was that just Arvain hoping he had and trying to reassure her?

"I am glad."

What else could she say?

They fell back into silence, each one lost in their thoughts. It was getting late, and normally Penny would be thinking of going to bed, but despite being tired she was also desperate to try and sort this out.

As it was, Halladan was soon back saying he had found Gandalf and his considered opinion was that they let Elrond rest overnight to allow him time to calm down, reflect on the incident and be able to look at things objectively in the morning. Penny's head dropped to her knees because she knew if he was saying that, Elrond was very probably still absolutely livid and, for all she knew, busy ranting and calling her every name under the sun.

"I hardly think that is likely," Halladan protested.

Penny was not so sure.

For very obvious reasons she was somewhat subdued when she arrived at her chambers. Mireth and Eleniel could tell something was amiss, but she would not be drawn, saying it was tiredness and nothing more. She did not fall asleep for a long time. She just stared at the wall with her stomach churning and her brain replaying the scene over and over and over until she nearly felt sick. Even when she did finally lapse into unconsciousness, her worry and stress invaded her dreams so she was restless and waking up every half hour, or so it seemed. At last she gave up all pretence, got dressed just as dawn was breaking and left the chambers before Mireth or Eleniel could stop her.

She had half hoped Halladan might have been taking one of his 'avoiding sleep walkabouts' when she emerged into the courtyard, but there was no sign of him. She sat by the fountain for a little while, letting her hand trail in the water, and then slowly wandered over to the embrasure in the wall on top of the massive spike of rock that faced east.

At some point a little over an hour later, as people slowly made their way to the Hall for breakfast, Mireth and Lindir came over to her, asking her if she was to join them. She said she was not hungry, thanking them and apologising but saying she wanted to be alone for a while. They nodded, smiled and left her to it, though Mireth did look concerned.

"Is anything amiss, Pen-ii?"

"Oh, I am just thinking." She saw Mireth's look. "Really, I am fine, Mireth."

Mireth did not look convinced. She also noted her question went unanswered, but respected Penny's request and followed Lindir to the Hall.

For a little while there was some bustle in the courtyard and then it all fell quiet once more, with just the odd servant or Citadel guard criss-crossing the wide open space. Pen-ii stared out at the Pelennor and the mountains of Mordor beyond. She was not even sure what was running through her brain. She was just waiting: waiting for what would have to be one of the most grovelling apologies she had ever had to make in her life and what would probably be a right royal dressing down from a furious warrior ellon (who would have every right to refuse to allow her anywhere near his household again) and that was if she was lucky. In the meantime she pondered on how much she had screwed up and how she was, through no one else's fault but her own, now likely enough stuck in this bloody city for who knew how long.

"Lady Pen-ii?"

She froze. Then slowly turned and looked up. She swallowed.

"Lord Elrond! I…I…"

"I understand you have something you wish to say to me?"

She could not tell if he was still angry or not. His voice was calm but cool, his face expressionless.

"Yes." She quickly got to her feet, aware that she was still sitting while he was standing. She smoothed her skirts, suddenly unable to look him in the face.

"Well?"

She took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"What I said to you last night… was outrageous. I apologise with all my heart. I was upset and shocked by what Halladan had just told me. It is no excuse, I know, but it might better explain why… Halbarad… Halbarad only told him as he lay dying, so even he, Halladan, I mean, did not know the circumstances surrounding it all. You were right, I should have stopped to think, and I did not. I should have stopped to consider who you are and your character. I grossly misjudged you, and for that I am truly sorry."

She stared at his feet the entire time she spoke.

There was a pause and then a heavy sigh.

"You upset me greatly, Pen-ii."

"I know."

"You disappointed me also."

Okay, that one cut like a knife.

"I had expected better of you. You forgot who you were speaking to, forgot how much I cared for Halbarad, failed to consider how much pain such a situation would have caused me."

She nodded. "I know." Her voice cracked a little.

"After all the kindness I have shown you."

Penny closed her eyes. It was so hard hearing this.

"I was saddened, Pen-ii, that in so brief an instant your opinion of me could sink so low."

Ow, ow, _ow_.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am," she said quietly, nearly in tears, "how much I bitterly regret last night. You have only ever treated me with kindness and respect, and you did not deserve to be spoken to in such a manner."

There was a brief silence.

"And I am sorry about referring to…"

"Please," he said hurriedly, holding up one hand. "I was as much to blame as you. I let my anger and my surprise at your behaviour and accusations get the better of me. I should not have pressed you as I did."

'Even so,' Penny thought. She could almost hear Halladan saying it.

"Will you not even look at me?"

She looked up to find that, even if he was not smiling, his face was not unkind. It had a softness about it that had not there before. He considered her for a moment and then shook his head.

"Ah, Pen-ii," he said, walking past her to the seat in the embrasure and sitting down. He gestured to her to join him and she did so. "You need to curb that temper of yours, it does you no credit. For all that what you said to Lady Sidhwen was correct, you should not have said it or certainly not in the manner you chose to do so. And as for last night…"

She looked at her hands in her lap.

"You were right, Pen-ii, I have known what it is to carry the burden of mortality, if not for myself then for others."

She could not bear to look at him.

"I am glad, perhaps, that their stories are considered sympathetically. However it was most presumptuous of you to mention such things to me, let alone in such a way and at such at time. More than that, my wife had nothing to do with the point you were making, and for you to mention Arwen's choice…" His voice had become dark. "Do you not think I am aware of it every day while we are here, given she is now married, given we will soon say our farewells?"

She looked up at him then and could see the pain in his face.

"But no matter." He looked away abruptly, out to the Pelennor. "You were angry and, since you did not fully understand the situation, I can understand your rage, though frankly you should know me well enough by now to have realised at the time that your anger was entirely misplaced. However," he turned back towards her, "I accept your apology." There was a forced, thin smile and she knew for all he might forgive he would not forget, but then nor would she. "It was well said and I can sense that your distress, guilt and shame are genuine enough." He looked at her a little more keenly. "I should perhaps also add, since you no longer blaming me, that you should not now blame yourself."

Penny could not quite look him in the eye.

"No doubt that is why Halbarad wished you to know: that it was as I said to you it would have been – he made his choice in spite of his knowledge. He would have ridden south no matter what he faced, as would any of those who rode with him. He did not want you to feel responsible for his choice, a choice that he made himself in full knowledge of the consequences. Did it not occur to you that given he had some foresight, perhaps he wanted to know? Wanted to prepare? Why else would he burden his sons with knowledge of this strange woman he had met and taken under his wing?" He paused. "Let us put this matter behind us, Pen-ii. Perhaps I should have told you I had spoken to him, and if so, then forgive me, since I can guess it came as something of a shock to you. I only… I only wished to alleviate some of the burden that you seemed determined to take upon yourself."

"I realise that. I thank you for being so considerate. Truly."

"Well, then, that is an end to it." He stood. "But let me say this, Pen-ii, as an advice, if not a warning: learn to control your emotions better and to think before you act or speak. It may be you do not know all the facts, or have missed something that should be obvious to you in your train of thought. Never jump to conclusions. Always take someone's previous character and actions into account. You may find others less forgiving than I if you make a habit of this."

His face was not unkind, but it was stern and left Penny in no doubt that this was, in effect, the telling off moment. She was amazed he was being so calm about it. She nodded.

"Yes, Lord Elrond. I thank you for your kindness."

"Did you have breakfast?"

She was a little thrown by the complete change of subject and when she looked at him she could see he was trying to seem his usual self with her. His eyes did not seem quite as warm as they usually were, though, but then she could have been imagining it. She shook her head in reply to his question.

"You should try and eat. Do not worry, Pen-ii, I am no longer angry or upset. I understand what happened and you have apologised. We need never mention it again."

A slightly warmer smile this time, and she attempted a nervous one back.

"There. All is as it should be. I will leave you now. There is much to be done given we leave in two days. And you have Halladan to thank, by the way. He accosted me on my way out from breakfast and made it clear you wished to speak to me, though Mithrandir said as much late last night as well. I will see you later, Pen-ii."

She inclined her head and murmured her gratitude once more as he left.

She could not quite believe it. He had been kind, generous and thoroughly decent when he would have had every right to have read her the riot act. Of course, this _was_ Elrond, 'kind as summer' Elrond, but even so Penny was still a little taken aback. That said, of course, he had made it clear in no uncertain terms just how much she had crossed the line. He had been generous, but also had expressed his anger and disappointment in her. The latter had hurt her deeply, though she knew well enough she had deserved it. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that Imladris was not really an option any longer, if only because she would feel so awkward accepting hospitality from someone she had been so rude to, who clearly felt she had, effectively, thrown back all his kindness in his face in that one moment. Time would tell, perhaps. She had not dared mention Imladris to him, nor did she think she would have the courage to do so any time soon, either. She realised, with a heavy heart, she had better start getting used to the idea of possibly staying in Gondor after all.

She glanced up to see a few people in the courtyard, no doubt having just left breakfast. She could see Erestor coming to meet Elrond and a few other people she recognised looking her way. No doubt some would wonder what their talk had been about. Not much she could do about that.

She had just spotted Halladan on the steps up to the Hall of Feasts when she realised he had glanced in Elrond's direction, and then stood, beginning to make his way over to her. Given she could also see Eleniel and Mireth heading her way, she decided to walk to meet him rather than have the two ellith beat him to it. They met on the edge of the courtyard.

"So?"

"He was most gracious and kind. Far more than I deserved."

"Did I not tell you he would be?"

But they were interrupted before she could tell him any more of what had gone on.

"Could Lord Elrond not even persuade you to have breakfast, Pen-ii?" Eleniel laughed as she joined them.

"I am not hungry." Penny smiled.

"Are you sure there is nothing amiss, Pen-ii? You do not seem your usual self." Mireth was still worried about her friend.

"I think, with our moment of leaving coming soon, Pen-ii is worrying about her decision of where she will stay," Halladan replied.

"Oh?" Mireth looked at Penny.

"Yes, that is true. I have been thinking about it a lot more recently. I have been trying not to think about it for all this time and suddenly I realise I need to make a decision."

"Not straight away," Eleniel said with a smile. "Is that all that is worrying you? You should have said! I imagine Lord Elrond had some words of wisdom for you, did he not?"

"Y-yes," Penny said hesitantly, not looking at them.

"Well, then, we have just the thing to keep your mind off it." Mireth beamed and linked arms with Penny. "We had the idea we would take you to buy something today. Since we leave soon it may be your last opportunity and I know how set you were on doing this." Mireth was clearly very pleased with her and Eleniel's plan. "You still want a memento of this place, do you not? If you choose not to stay here?"

Penny felt a weight in her stomach. What would be the point of getting a keepsake now?

"I was thinking we could go and see the glassblowers," Eleniel suggested. "After all it is very fine work they do, and unique to the city."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," Halladan agreed. "I might join you. I could do with the walk."

"What is this? Making plans? You have your lesson, Pen-ii, do not forget." Erestor had wandered over to them and was smiling broadly.

So the others said they would meet her after her Westron lesson, and Penny went off with Erestor. As they walked side by side across the square, Penny was half waiting for him to say something to her, either about her not being at breakfast or about the previous evening directly. He was a close confidante of Elrond's and, if anyone knew about last night outside of those who witnessed it, then he would, and yet he did not say a word. Even throughout the lesson he made no reference to it – oblique or otherwise – and was he usual affable self.

Either he was making a very good show of not referring to it or else he genuinely did not know. Whichever was the case, it made Penny feel much better about the whole thing.

Waiting for her in the square afterwards were Halladan, Mireth and Eleniel, as they had promised. Lindir was chatting to them but explained he would not be coming on the shopping trip.

"Thanks to you, Pen-ii, I have to meet with one of Istdor's scribes. There are only two days left and there is still much they want to make a record of."

"Perhaps someone should suggest Istdor travel with the King as far as the Gap of Rohan," Mireth replied. Penny could not help but grin along with the others.

"Don't you dare!" Lindir wagged his finger at Mireth.

"It would keep Rhimlath quiet," Eleniel pointed out.

"And there would be no escape from either of them," Lindir retorted. He paused then turned and looked at Penny. "What, no quip from you, young madam?"

"Mireth beat me to it," she said, smiling, but it was clear even to Lindir that she was slightly out of sorts still.

"The sooner we find you something pretty to take back to Imladris, the better," Mireth said, taking Penny's hand and dragging her off to the gate. Penny let her pull her away, but at the same time she really wished Mireth would not keep mentioning what she suspected was an increasingly unlikely proposition.

It was not only that, though, that made her a little subdued as they wandered slowly down through the circles.

This would be the first time she had been in the First Circle since the mugging and she was not looking forward to it. Having such good friends with her helped enormously and all three were telling stories, joking and laughing till pretty soon she was in the spirit of the thing. She was nervous the first time they crossed the square, but having Halladan beside her and the two ellith chattering away at her to distract her helped to keep her mind off it and she ended up crossing it several more times. In some ways it was perhaps a little easier given it looked so very different without all the market stalls around, though it was still a hive of activity nonetheless.

She studiously avoided the side of the square where the alley was, though, but that was perhaps understandable.

Mireth had brought Penny's money purse with her (though Halladan made a point of insisting he keep hold of it), and between them the three managed to guide Penny round the various cratfsmen's workshops so she could decide on what she wanted.

She bought only one small item in the end.

"Are you sure that is all you want?"

"There is nothing I truly need, Eleniel. As you said, this is more to remind me of my time here in Gondor if it turns out I shall head back to the north."

It was purely ornamental: a glass vase, no more than five inches high, but with a wide base and bowl. It was a very bright green and had white swirls blown into it. She had suggested a leather hair tie, as she had first considered some days previously – one of those that was an oval shape and with a stick running through it. Her hair was that much longer these days and having such a contraption would be useful. The others had protested, insisting that such things were easily made and any one of them could make her as many as she needed. Even Halladan agreed.

Buying the vase had been 'interesting,' for want of a better word.

After much nudging and encouragement from Eleniel, Penny had hesitantly tried her limited Westron to at least make a start on the transaction by herself. However, she had quickly become mired in confusion the moment the man started insisting she could have the vase for practically nothing.

Apparently going shopping with two elves and a Dunadan in tow worked wonders.

They all protested, of course, at which point a strange 'reverse-haggling' process took place in which the man insisted he would accept nothing more than some ridiculously small amount and Halladan insisted just as forcefully that it must be worth no less than a far larger amount. Eventually they met in the middle somewhere, Penny finally handed over a coin and got a few silver ones in return, and honour was satisfied all round.

It had been nothing if not a palaver, though.

At lunch Penny was wary, again wondering how many might know of what had transpired the night before with Lord Elrond, but it soon became clear that no one outside of that immediate circle who had witnessed it would ever be any the wiser. Or else, they were keeping it to themselves.

King Eomer was expected the following day, and the previous evening at supper, though Penny did not know it, a messenger from Dol Amroth had partaken of the victuals on offer. He had come with word that Prince Imrahil was due the following day, and in fact during lunch word quickly spread that ships flying the Dol Amroth standard had been seen on the river, already nearing the quay at Harlond.

An excited crowd gathered in the square, the King and Queen among them as a party was got together to head down to give an official welcome consisting of nobles from Minas Tirith, Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Gandalf as well as the King and Queen, obviously.

Penny was aware that she had not spoken to Celeborn, Gandalf or Aragorn since last night – she had not seen them to do so, nor was now the time. With guests arriving she wondered if she would get any opportunity any time soon.

As the welcoming committee headed off towards the gate, Arvain and Lindir spotted Penny and dragged her off with them to a vantage point in the south-facing part of the wall so they could watch as the Prince arrived. He had come with a small company of men, and it was quite impressive, even from a distance, with the sun gleaming off their mail and the spears and shields brandished.

The party took their time to come up the hill through the city, and she had promised Meresel she would go and visit her. As she crossed the square to head down to her house she spotted Durion scurrying across the square, bustling maidservants in front of him.

"Did I not tell you the chambers in the East Wing! Hurry! Hurry! He will be here at any moment! And you…" He had pointed a finger at a rather startled guard as he had passed by them. "Would you please send a message to Lord Faramir that I only have room for twenty men here in the upper circles if I am to house who knows how many Rohirrim come tomorrow evening…"

She chuckled and shook her head. Poor Durion. He would probably be glad to see the back of them all.

A little while later, at Meresel's house, the children came running to say that the welcoming committee with Prince Imrahil and various nobles from Dol Amroth were passing by the house. They went out to watch, part of the crowd that lined the streets cheering and giving the Prince the welcome he deserved given he had fought alongside them all, indeed had taken charge of the Gondorian troops for a time on the field. Penny only caught a glimpse of him, though, and it was not until supper she managed to see him properly.

He did not look his sixty-three years, and while it was certainly clear he was a generation older than Faramir, Penny could immediately see the Numenorean and elvish bloodline in him. Indeed, Faramir bore a striking resemblance to his uncle and when they, Aragorn and various Dunedain and elves were all grouped together, it was quite an impressive sight.

Gandalf made a point of introducing Penny to him, and he was most gracious, but clearly did not see her as anything other than another young lady of the court and Penny did not speak more than a few words to him. The men who had travelled with him, though, were all those who had fought on the Pelennor and were well known to most there. Penny was introduced to several by Halladan, Arvain and Faelon who spoke highly and warmly of their southern kin. It amused Penny no end to learn Rhimlath was particularly taken by the men from Dol Amroth, declaring them to be closest in kin to the elves themselves thanks to the elvish blood that ran in their veins.

"You can always tell," he muttered to her. "Such a purity and nobility of spirit cannot fail to manifest itself."

Penny knew he was right, but she still rolled her eyes none the less. It was just so typically Rhimlath.

All the while, though, she was conscious of something having changed. Whether it was in herself and purely imagined, she was not sure. She felt shy, suddenly, of talking outright to Aragorn, Celeborn or Elrond. Even Gandalf, when he had insisted on introducing her, had said little to her.

"I am glad you have apologised. It was the right thing to do."

That was all he had managed to say to her. He had smiled kindly at her, but Penny still felt uncomfortable and self-conscious. She spent most of the evening outside in the square with Halladan, for once not pushing him to go and dance. Indeed at one point he suggested they go and take a turn around the floor and when she looked hesitant it was his turn to be insistent.

"It will take your mind off things," he said. "You have nothing to worry about."

She allowed him to do so, and then found several others insisting they take a turn and she could not refuse. She left as quickly as she could in the end, since it seemed the only way to escape it. She tried to have an early night, but had only another restless sleep with vivid dreams once more.

The next morning preparations had to be made. They were leaving the next day, and King Eomer was expected sometime in the evening. Washing had been done earlier in the week, so as little as possible would be needed to be washed and dried today. For Penny it was just one dress and one shift. She would wear today what she would wear tomorrow and for the next few days. They went to the washing stoop straight after breakfast to give as much time as possible for their clothes to dry afterwards. Erestor had agreed she could have her lesson after lunch instead. There was a light drizzle as they made their way down, and Penny worried they would have to take damp clothes with them, but the sun was back out by the time they were hanging out their washing and it soon dried.

She spent the rest of the morning with Istdor immersed in books. It was her last chance, after all.

Lunch was a strange affair, with the men from Dol Amroth milling about and a general buzz in the air as everyone geared up towards leaving. The hobbits were both happy to be finally thinking of going home, but sad also, Pippin in particular.

As she made her way across the courtyard with Erestor for her lesson, she noticed the Dunedain were gathering in a group, looking more serious and grim than usual. Neither Arvain or Faelon had said anything to her at lunch, though she had sat near both of them. Now she thought of it, though, Penny realised they had both been quite quiet, a little more subdued than normal throughout the meal, Arvain especially.

Erestor saw her looking at them with some curiosity.

"They are heading to the burial mounds. To say their farewells."

Penny felt a cold sadness somewhere in her chest. As she watched, Arvain happened to catch her eye. He held her gaze for a moment, gave her a sad smile, and then turned away.

After her lesson there was no sign of the Dunedain anywhere. Even when one or two finally surfaced in the Seventh Circle, she did not see Arvain or Halladan for quite some time. When she did, they were both looking a little haggard and drawn. She wondered if it bothered them that there had been no time to ride to Hirvell's grave, or if they would have even wanted to do such a thing. She suspected Halladan probably would not.

Then, late in the afternoon, just as the previous day, word spread that the eored was in sight of the city. Again a greeting party was made ready and headed off down towards the city gate, while Penny, Eleniel, Meresel, Lindir and several others stood by the embrasure on the spit of rock facing East and watched their approach. The sun flashed off helm and spear point, the shields gleamed and the banners of a white horse on a green field were held high. Eomer rode in front of his one hundred and fifty men, tall and proud. Behind them came a wain, no doubt to carry Theoden's body, and those in charge of the supplies.

As Penny watched, she wondered what it would be like for Halladan to be surrounded by those he had fought with once more. It would be easier, perhaps, to be finally leaving the places where the battle had raged, but any easing of his stress might only be cancelled out by the familiar faces, the amount of battle tales that would no doubt be told round the campfires, by the memories, the scars, those suffering just like him.

She sighed heavily.

It seemed she might not be the only one with a rough few days ahead of her.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Thanks, as ever to all those reading this, let alone those who take time out to leave a review or comment. The last chapter generated a lot of interest, feedback and discussion - all of which was fascinating and much appreciated.

And I think I should apologise for odd punctuation at times. For some reason this site does not like exclamation marks and question marks combined, and eats one or the other. There is no way to fix this. Sorry!

Please note, the reference to Beregond and his saying farewell to Pippin in this chapter is now cut. It makes more sense that he would travel with Faramir to Rohan. With thanks to Lindelea. :)


	37. Dead Man Walking

**Chapter 37** – _"Dead Man Walking"_

That evening there was a great feast, but it was utterly different from that which had been laid on for the wedding. For a start the food, while sumptuous, was not quite as rich and laden with cream and spices as before. Penny was not the only one to wonder at it, given the two high-ranking guests that were among them as well as it being the final farewell for the elves and Dúnedain. Milves had muttered something as she had been helping them get water ready for bathing that afternoon, but Penny had only partially understood it. Something about elves getting underfoot in the kitchens and certain people would be glad to see the back of them.

"Not that I include myself among them, you understand. Dear me, no! It has been a truly wonderful thing to have had you all here, my dears, but I think you will understand me when I say that one or two have been over-free with their advice and, while they mean well, I have no doubt, the Head Cook… well, she is a very good friend of mine, and to say she does not take criticism well would be an understatement."

Later, the full story slowly emerged amid the gossiping and whispering around the Hall.

Just as elves had been busy investigating every nook and cranny of the city, the kitchens had also been part of the tour. Just as Istdor had been 'advised' on 'errors' in his tomes, and various carpenters or silversmiths had been generously shown how to 'improve' their technique, so the cooks had also had to deal with elvish cooks keen to learn new recipes and see how they dealt with these strange ingredients brought up from the southlands. At the same time they lifted every lid on every saucepan, rummaged through ingredients, watched over shoulders, tasted, and, of course, made 'helpful suggestions' on how to make recipes that had been handed down from generation to generation of Gondorians 'infinitely better' when no one had complained about them before.

No one begrudged them, exactly; they were too gracious and kind for anyone to feel ill-will towards them. Not only that but they spoke with the wisdom of millennia behind them, so much of what they had to say and teach was of huge benefit.

However, that said, there were some that could be rather supercilious in their attitude and seem dismissive of mortal abilities and knowledge (as Penny had herself experienced), and that certainly could irritate those with less patience. The Galadhrim in particular were a little rusty in terms of human/elf interaction, though they little realised it (nor would have cared terribly much had they known). It had to be said that Rhimlath was not unique, though he was perhaps at one end of the extreme.

Thus, in a fit of pique, the Head Cook, with gritted teeth and a dangerous smile had indeed 'toned down' some of the dishes as had been helpfully suggested. She did, however, make a point of deliberately cooking a fish soup with exactly too much pepper and cumin in it, since fish soup had been declared a favourite dish by a particularly vocal Galadhrim as he had wandered around her kitchen, poking his long nose into all of her pots. She would have no doubt been hugely gratified to learn that said elf had tucked in with gusto, only to then grimace, cough hugely and gasp for water.

There were speeches at the end of the meal. Long speeches about heroes and nobility, about all that had been suffered and lost in the face of terrible evil, and yet how a new era filled with hope and peace had dawned. Years of happiness stretched before them all. They would mourn and toast the dead, and be eternally grateful to them for their sacrifice.

Baritone murmurs rumbled through the hall as cups were raised, and Penny became aware just how outnumbered the women were for once.

Indeed the sense of 'maleness' continued even afterwards. There was some dancing, but not enough female partners for all, so the bulk of people were drinking or telling tales and singing songs. Penny noted that Halladan did not get to spend any time outside, since he was forever having his arm clasped by one of the Rohirrim or his back slapped by a man from Dol Amroth, dragged into conversations, called upon to fill in details of stories or listen to songs. Towards the end of the evening he had a decidedly strained look about him, and when Arvain tried to refuse to refill his tankard he got a fearsome glare by way of response.

In the meantime, however, Penny had little chance to consider the situation, since she barely stopped all night. The female Galadhrim tended to be slightly more reserved in their choice of dance partners, which limited the choices still further for the male guests, and Penny found herself dancing with complete strangers several times. The Rohirrim were always slightly surprised at her mangled and limited Westron, but polite enough. Elfhelm made a point of coming over to her and expressing his delight to see she was much improved from the state she had been in when she had left Rohan. She felt slightly shy that he had remembered her and it was only afterwards that Arvain explained that Elfhelm had actually asked about her.

"That strange woman travelling with the elves – the one who spoke no Mannish tongue and left us in a state near to death."

Penny was not sure if she was pleased he had worried about her and asked after her, or faintly put out at still being considered some sort of travelling weirdo.

Every time she met Elrond, or caught his eye, he smiled and nodded his head in his usual way, but Penny noted she never got to speak to him. No doubt he was busy with all the guests, but she could not help but wonder if he was avoiding having too much to do with her for the time being. She would not blame him in the least if that was the case. She tried to put it out of her mind as Corunir, Meresel's relative (her husband's cousin whom Penny had seen at the wrestling), held out his hand and insisted it was his turn for a dance.

She had met Corunir several times of late at Meresel's house. He was often there collecting something or dropping off a present for the kids, his visits to the house just so happening to coincide with Penny's own. He would invariably slouch down into a chair, fix that 'ever-so-slightly-too-wide' grin on Penny and engage her in conversation. Meresel would quickly shoo him out of the house, reminding him he had things he should be doing. This was the first time he had danced with her, though. Penny was not sure why she felt uncomfortable with him, and put it down to the fact that, although she now knew he was only a month or two off twenty, he looked about eighteen to her. That and he still reminded her of her brother rather too much. It was the arrogant cockiness, the self-assured smile, the assumption, for example, that when they had finished their dance she would of course follow him to get a cup of wine and to meet his friends.

He seemed most put out when Faelon grabbed her hand instead and pulled her off in the opposite direction for a dance.

She did, however, make a point of prising Istdor away from Rhimlath and asking if he would have a slow, sedate dance with her. Istdor seemed rather pleased at the request, even if he protested it had been some years since he had done this sort of thing. She insisted, though. Given the current situation, it was highly likely she would be back in a month or so, but she never knew if it might not be the last time she saw him, and he certainly enjoyed his gentle spin round the hall with Penny on his arm.

Eomer was making his presence known, talking to many there and laughing heartily with most. It was only much later, as she was climbing into bed, that Penny realised that when she had seen him and Gimli in earnest conversation, she probably knew what the topic of conversation had been. She could not help but smile.

The next morning was an early one. Packing was done and servants were busily scurrying back and forth across the square with bags and provisions from early light. There was a rather tearful farewell from Milves. Penny did point out she might be back, and one or two of the ellith would be returning with Arwen (Eleniel amongst them), but Milves still insisted she would miss them all dreadfully and she knew she was being a daft old coot, but there they were, she was a softie at heart and no mistake.

She insisted on giving hugs and kisses to them all, as well pressing a huge basket of freshly baked white cakes on them and then cried all over again when several of the ellith gave her little gifts – trinkets or pieces of cloth.

Penny had assumed they would go straight down to the First Circle and get saddled up, but no. After breakfast there was a great milling about in the courtyard and the atmosphere was rather muted. Then there was a great blowing of trumpets and Aragorn, Eomer, Faramir, Merry and various Gondorian and Rohirric nobles and lords made their way to the door that lead down to the Rath Dínen and the Houses of the Dead.

They bore an empty bier with them.

The tone was sombre, the chatter quiet and subdued in the crowd as everyone waited; and when they at last returned, now with a man-like shape underneath a cloth of gold lying on the bier, an absolute silence fell.

The crowd parted before them as Aragorn and Eomer walked side by side and in front of the body of Theoden. Men bowed their heads, some put their hands to their breasts, and even the elves were visibly moved. As the bier made its way through the gate and down to the Sixth Circle, slowly everyone followed behind.

The people of Minas Tirith came out of their houses to watch them leave, but chiefly to pay their respects to the fallen king. There was no shouting, no waving, no singing, no cheering. It was utterly unlike their arrival, Penny noted, when all of Minas Tirith had been agog and in rapture at the presence of so many elves and at the elleth who would be their queen. Now the only sounds were the occasional murmur from the crowd. Even children were stilled – if one ran out of a house, or tried to play with another, adult arms and hands intervened, holding them in place with a whispered rebuke.

Once out of the main gate, the great wain that had arrived with the Rohirrim stood waiting to receive its cargo. The Rohirrim lined up on either side, forming an entrance way to it as Theoden was carried down the aisle of warriors and gently placed inside it. Then the ties holding the flaps back were loosed and the shrouded form was hidden from view. The men who had formed the entrance way slowly made their way to stand in formation around the wain, guarding their King even in death.

The tone lightened then, if only by a little. Talk was still quiet as the horses were readied, though the baggage had already been packed, so little needed to be done.

Meresel and Penny had a strange farewell. Penny reminded Meresel she may well be coming back to the city in a few weeks but Meresel insisted she would not be surprised if Penny returned north.

"After all, who would wish to leave such company?" she said, gesturing round them to the elves nearby, many already mounted on their steeds or making their last farewells to various Gondorians milling around. "And besides," she added quietly, gently taking hold of Penny's hand with a soft smile, "I think you feel more at home in their company than ours. Gondor… is not best suited to you, I do not think. You would be most welcome and you have made good friends here, you know that, but I think you would agree with me, would you not?"

Penny nodded but could not quite look Meresel in the eye. Meresel considered her for a moment.

"It is strange, but there are times when you feel younger than me."

Penny looked at her and saw she was smiling kindly, that she had meant no insult by it: it had been a mere observation. Penny had to admit she was probably right. Her emotional instability, her lack of control or self-assurance probably did seem immature to some. Of course, a large part of that had been brought on precisely by being here in this place and seeing the damage the War had wrought.

"It is a shame you cannot travel with us," she said.

"Ah, but my boys need me. They will miss their father, of course, but Fimorndír has been on tours of duty before now, so they are used to him being away for weeks at a time. Thankfully it will be a less frequent occurrence in future than it has been in recent years. That is something for which I am truly thankful."

"Of course."

"He has promised to bring them something back from Rohan with him. Daggers or some such I suspect," she added with a weary sigh. "Something completely impractical for them at their still tender years and which he will no doubt insist on letting them use when I am not aware of it."

Penny laughed and Meresel smiled. She then went on to make it clear that Penny would always be welcome in her home, that her sons would miss their new friend. In spite of Penny's protests she was behaving as if Penny would not be returning to Gondor any time soon.

"And I wanted to give you this," she continued, pulling something from her hand. "No, no, do not refuse it, I insist. It is only a little thing, perhaps, but it shall be a token of our friendship."

It was a silver ring, the band intricately crafted to look like intertwined leaves with a single, small green stone set into it. Penny thought it was exquisite, and told Meresel so, thanking her profusely. She apologised that she had nothing to give her in return… until she thought of the little vase she had bought.

"No, you keep that. I know you bought it as a keepsake."

"Then I shall get you something when I return, or else send you something from the North."

Meresel smiled. "I would like that very much."

"And I shall write. If I can… Does one do that?"

Meresel's smile broadened. "Please do. I would love to hear your news and how you fare. I so rarely get letters, so it would be something indeed."

So that was settled, even though Penny considered it a rather hollow promise given she did not doubt that she would see Meresel in a month or so, but no matter. She was most touched by her gift and what it represented. Meresel had shown her nothing but kindness and warmth during her stay in the city, and she would never forget it. The ring fitted on the ring finger of her right hand very well, and in the following days Penny found that every time she glanced at it, knowing what it meant, it actually helped a little: to know that, in spite of her misgivings about Gondor and staying there, it was not a wholly dark picture and she had at least one good friend amongst the nobles there, outside of the royal couple.

Pretty soon everything was set. The funeral train was a huge one, everyone riding in their respective groups.

The Rohirrim were to lead, King Eomer in front, with the wain immediately behind him, the eored guarding it and trailing behind it. Merry was up next to the driver on the wain itself, looking more grim and serious than Penny had ever seen him, clearly determined to do Theoden proud while battling with the memories of his fall.

Next came King Elessar and Queen Arwen, their lords, ladies, nobles and guards, and the Dúnedain were included amongst these, representing as they did half of Aragorn's realm. Pippin rode with the Gondorian guards, and the rest of the Fellowship rode with Aragorn. Gimli and Legolas shared one horse which Penny assumed was Arod, Mithrandir was riding Shadowfax, while Frodo and Sam had been found ponies suitable for their stature. Faramir was leading a group of men Penny now knew to be his personal guard, many of them now stationed in Osgiliath or else often out 'rangering' in Ithilien. She smiled as she spotted Beregond among them. The men from Dol Amroth were also part of this large group, and Prince Imrahil rode alongside Aragorn and Gandalf as their equal in station.

The elves followed behind the mortals, which was no indication of their being less important, far from it. It was only right that those who had fought alongside Rohan, or who represented those who had and those who owed so much to Theoden's riding to Gondor's aid, should follow his bier most closely. Even so, behind the elves came the supply train, made up of Rohirric and Gondorian riders and carts carrying victuals, tents and other necessities. The elves, as when they had first crossed the Pelennor and arrived at the city, were divided into those of Lothlorien and Imladris, with Penny riding with the latter for the time being though she hung back from Elrond, Erestor and Glorfindel a little, finding Mireth, Celebdor and Lindir in the middle of the group somewhere. It seemed strange to be riding without Eleniel. She and two ellith from Lothlorien were riding with Arwen, since they would act as ladies-in-waiting and stay in Gondor with her for at least a year or two.

Banners were held high amongst each group, mail and helm gleamed, the horses champed. There was only a low murmur even amongst the crowds on the Pelennor and up on the ramparts on the city. This was, first and foremost, a funeral procession after all.

Then horns sounded, blown by the Rohirric riders at the front. Somewhere in the group of riders ahead of Penny, Pippin bowed his head for a moment as if overcome, but soon, nearby him, Gondorian trumpeters took up the call, only to be echoed by others within the city.

The procession began to move.

There were so many of them that it was some time before Penny actually gave her horse the command and started off. It was strangely exciting to be off on the road again, and she made a decision then and there that, no matter what she would decide at the end of it, she would enjoy this break away from the city even if it was only for a few weeks.

For a while there were no songs, only the quiet tramp of feet or horses' hooves, the jangle of bridles or low chatter amongst the huge party that stretched out for at least a mile or more. Gondorians lined the way, silent as the wain carrying Theoden King's body rolled past them, but slightly more vocal as those behind it rode or marched past. A few children fell in step beside their fathers in the Gondorian ranks or else, bolder now after having had nearly three weeks of elvish company, threw a last few questions at an elf they recognised in the crowd who would answer with a smile and a wave.

The pace was sedate to say the least, but it was inevitable that it would be slow going with this many people. Pretty soon, though, they were winding their way through the fields and pastures of the Pelennor, past the scars of the ditches the orcs had dug, the tumble-down ruins of houses, though there seemed a few fewer than before, or more in a state of rebuild than even three weeks ago (or so it seemed to Penny). If the ground seemed greener, the earth more fertile than it had, Penny assumed she was imagining it, though when she mentioned it to Lindir he smiled softly and shook his head at her as if she had said something faintly amusing.

She should have known: the elves had been hard at work, of course.

After an hour or so, the elves could not restrain themselves any longer and a song began. It was a slow melody that was obviously well known since it was passed back and forth from singer to singer in amongst both groups. At one point Lindir took it up and sang several verses, with others near him joining occasionally with a single alternate line, one tune weaving in and out of the other.

Even if she had not understood most of the words, Penny would have known this was a song of loss, of grief, of mortality. Like most elvish songs, you could almost feel the meaning within you, particularly if it was a moving song. It was still strange to Penny to be able to guess at a song's meaning and know she was very likely right, but that was elves for you. It was a beautiful and fitting song to begin such a journey and the Rohirrim seemed to appreciate it, many coming to murmur their thanks when they all paused briefly for a midday meal.

By afternoon songs were being sung on a regular basis, though nothing too jolly or frivolous, for obvious reasons. For the most part it seemed as if the elves were 'playing safe' in their topics, and singing ballads of tales of derring-do and ancient deeds done by equally ancient elves.

They reached the Rammas Echor by early evening and did not go far before they stopped and set up camp. Tents and awnings quickly sprung up all over the place, as did several campfires. They were far too great a number to consider trying to cook and eat all as one group, so instead each fed their own. There was no great formality to it, however, and many a group had those from different realms altogether. One thing Penny noted, however, was that there was a distinct difference between the average soldier or those travelling with the supplies and the mortal nobles from Gondor and even Rohan. That several of these 'lesser' persons were invited to join the elves and Dúnedain was commented upon with raised eyebrows by some of the mortals, both noble and commoner alike.

Given that the Dúnedain were few in number, they joined the elves for the evening meal, even though some protested they were perfectly happy with the cured meat and cram they had in their packs. There was laughter amongst some of the Imladris elves who knew them well and threw them comments of 'well, you can have a decent meal as you travel in the wild for once. It will not kill you, we assure you.' Penny grinned and laughed with the rest. She had long ago learned that her experience with Habarad's vile boiled bunny was by no means unique. Indeed she was surprised, therefore, to see Naurdir and Faelon seemed to be working in tandem.

"Ah, you see, Pen-ii, Faelon is an unusual breed," Naurdir said with an impish smile and a wink towards his wife, "a Ranger who knows how to cook."

"Ah, now, hold hard, Naurdir. That is a little unfair," Faelon protested. "It is one thing to refuse to carry every vegetable known to man in a pack when out on duty and another to be unable to cook at all. Keep things light and to the minimum when travelling. Nothing wrong with that."

Penny set to work along with Mireth helping to peel some vegetables. However, after a little while Naurdir was complaining he did not have enough water, so she offered to fill some of the watersacs, since most had run dry given the amount of use they had seen in the summer heat of a long day's ride.

"Oh, no, you don't." Lindir was on his feet. "Remember when we camped some way further north of here last time? There are likely to be all sorts of weapons still hidden in the long grass. I will come with you."

Penny knew better than to argue, but Lindir need not have worried. Many were doing the same thing, and the path to the little brook nearby was already well worn. He shrugged and muttered something about coming to help carry the sacs anyway.

"So did you get all the songs transcribed that you wished to?"

Lindir gave her a look.

"Oh, come, Lindir, you found it a little flattering, you have to admit. Istdor thought your work was superb. He told you so often enough."

Lindir's expression softened. "Oh, I do not begrudge Master Istdor. He is a good and kind man, and he knows his lore better than Rhimlath was prepared to admit to his face."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that Rhimlath told me privately that he was impressed a 'mere mortal' (his words, not mine, Pen-ii) could have such detailed knowledge and have such depth and breadth of learning."

Penny nearly said something but restrained herself. Lindir took one look at the expression on her face and laughed out loud.

As they returned to the camp, sprawled as it was over a huge area, they were met by Erestor. He was insisting Penny have a Westron lesson.

"Are you not needed by King Elessar?"

Aragorn and Arwen were to eat separately from everyone else, and several of the elite were to join them: Faramir, Eomer, Imrahil, Celeborn, Galadriel, Gandalf, Elrond, Legolas and Gimli as well as a few others, Erestor amongst them.

"Not for a little while."

"Oh, I can test her Westron for you," Lindir said with a smile. "I'll insist she speak nothing but Westron until we eat. How is that?"

"Lindir!"

Erestor considered for a moment and then agreed that would be no bad thing, much to Penny's annoyance, and left them to it.

"And what makes you think I will say a word from now till supper time?" Penny muttered furiously at Lindir.

"I am sorry, did you say something? I could have sworn you were talking just now, but I did not understand you. If you try in Westron then perhaps I might…"

"Lindir…!"

"Hmm?"

"That's it. I refuse to talk."

"Ah-ah-ah," he wagged a finger at her. "Westron only, Pen-ii."

She glared at him. He beamed back and she could not help but smile begrudgingly in the end, won over by his persistent cheerfulness.

"What is this? Lindir teasing you as usual?"

"Something like that, Arvain."

"Westron, Pen-ii!"

Penny groaned. She then threw her hands up as Arvain asked why she had to speak in Westron and, when it was explained, enthusiastically agreed. She stalked back to the elves' campfire with the two of them throwing questions at her in Westron all the while.

Of course she got no peace. Not from either of them, or anyone else in the near vicinity who quickly understood the situation and resolutely stuck to Westron for the next hour or so. A chuckling Halladan would occasionally whisper the meaning of a word to her if she seemed completely flummoxed by something, but otherwise she coped reasonably well. But then, considering most of it involved people pointing at vegetables or implements with a questioning tone of voice as if asking her to pass them whatever it was, it was hardly complicated.

The meal done, everyone relaxed into gentle chatter. There was some story-telling and singing, but still subdued compared to how the journey south at been. Not too far away, beside the Rohirric campfires, was the wain, a huge shadow in the gathering dusk. Burning brands had been placed at its four corners and half a dozen Rohirrim soldiers were standing guard, and it would remain guarded all night and every night as they travelled.

It was turning a little colder, and Penny went to her tent to fetch a shawl. As she came out, wrapping it round her shoulders, she took stock of the camp for a moment, and decided that, yes, she was glad to be on the move again. She already felt like a great weight had been removed from her. Then her gaze fell on the royal tent, trimmed with brocade and gold, and the party still talking quietly, seated on cushions at its entrance and with golden cups filled with wine in their hands. Frodo and Sam had been invited to join them, and Penny smiled to see Sam blushing furiously as Galadriel spoke to him. Then, for the briefest of moments Elrond looked up and happened to catch sight of her, even if she was some distance from him. He inclined his head ever so slightly, a soft smile on his face, but in the flicker of the torches the smile seemed perfunctory, forced – a courtesy rather than sincere. Penny nodded her head by way of acknowledgement and quickly turned away.

The light was fading, and while the eastern sky was growing dark Penny could still make out the black line of the mountains against it. The first stars were pricking the sky, which only served to make the dark, jagged horizon stand out all the more. As Penny gazed at it, she realised she could actually make out a point where the line stopped, where the mountains ended their movement north and swung at a right angle away to the east: the point of the Black Gate.

It still seemed so strange to see it, so unreal. Even now she had met those who had fought there, who had lost loved ones there; even though she had spoken to the hobbits and heard their story, if not firsthand then through Legolas, she still could not truly imagine the bleak awfulness of what lay beyond that mountain range, nor the true horror of what many had seen or been a party to.

"It draws the eye, does it not?"

Halladan's voice was quiet.

"It seems so insignificant, and yet…"

"Indeed."

They fell into silence. Penny wondered if she dare ask him how he felt to leave Hirvell behind, but knew it was the last thing he would want to talk about.

"Does it feel any easier for you, to be outside of the Pelennor?"

If he was surprised by her question, he did not show it, merely looked down at the grass for a moment as if assessing how he felt, giving her question consideration.

"A little." There was a pause. "Perhaps."

Somewhere behind them a low song had started up. It was a mortal voice and in Sindarin, so was clearly from the Gondorian contingent. It was far enough away that Penny could not hear it clearly, but in the snatches she could catch in the breeze she recognised the words for 'battle' and 'warrior', 'heroes' and 'the fallen.' She glanced sideways at Halladan but his face was impassive. He was staring out at the line of the mountains, at the same point that she had been looking at just now. She wondered if it might be best if she left him to it.

She turned to leave, then paused beside him and gently laid a hand on his upper arm, trying to find the right words. She could think of none so gave his arm a gentle squeeze, immediately kicking herself because it seemed like such a patronising thing to do, though she not intended it to be so, and she let her hand drop away, suddenly flustered and embarrassed. She turned and started off towards the campfire.

"And you?"

She turned back towards him, to find he was looking at her.

"Me?"

"To be free of the city, to be away from the…" He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I nearly said 'memories', but of course they are not memories to you, though they reminded you of what had been even if you had not been a witness to it."

There was a moment of silence between them. Then she nodded slowly.

"Yes, I am glad to be gone from it. I do feel… less burdened already, if you can understand that."

"I understand it completely."

"I do not doubt that you do."

She was thinking of what it would be like to have to face it all once more, to return to it, and whether it would be easier knowing what she would face or more difficult to plunge herself into it all again. She stared down at the ring on her finger, twisting and worrying at it almost unconsciously.

"If it distresses you that much, no one will force you to return," Halladan said quietly. "You are free to make your choice. You know that."

She nodded, saying nothing and still staring at her hands.

"You are still concerned about Lord Elrond?"

She felt ashamed to admit it. She knew what he would say: that she was being ridiculous, that she should take Lord Elrond's words at face value when he had said that all was right between them once more.

And yet…

And yet a line once crossed was hard to return to. Even if Lord Elrond had forgiven her entirely, she could not forgive herself, or not any time soon at any rate.

She was not even aware that Halladan had closed the space between them until she felt his gentle hold upon her arm.

"You must stop taking things upon yourself so deeply. It shows sensitivity on your part, and it also shows the depth of respect you have towards those you hold dear amongst us all. There is nothing wrong in that. At the same time… you are old enough, able enough to live your life. Did not Gandalf tell you to do exactly that? To live as if you are here to stay? That you are here to stay as best as he can see? I know it is hard. I cannot imagine what it must be to walk in your shoes, but I know what it is to have your entire life turned upside down, to not be able to see a way ahead of you, to be lost in what has happened instead of facing what might be. I cannot change myself, but I would not have you do the same. I say this as a friend, Pen-ii. You have this time away from Gondor to clear you thoughts, to find your feet and make some firm decisions. You are more than capable." He smiled softly. "You have proved that often enough in the past."

"You say that like it is a good thing." She chuckled slightly, shaking her head a little.

"Well, in the right place and time, and channelled in the right way, then, yes, it can be a very good thing. Or I think so."

"What are you two doing, sulking and moping over there in the dark?" Arvain was grinning widely as he wandered up to them. "Come and join us. Naurdir has opened a keg of ale and Rhimlath is about to tell us some lengthy ballad about the battles in Arnor against the Witchking."

"Oh yes?" Halladan seemed amused.

"Well, if Lindir will let him, that is. Lindir is most put out that Rhimlath is attempting to tell a ballad that Lindir himself wrote."

Penny laughed. "Oh, this could be amusing."

"Amusing or alarming, I think," Arvain replied. "Either way it will be worth watching. Are you coming?"

"Yes, yes, of course, brother." Halladan looked down at Penny and they shared a smile before walking slowly towards the fire, following in Arvain's wake.

"Thank you," Penny murmured quietly.

"Not at all. I just hope you will be able to act on what I said."

"And I hope you will try and act on the advice I have given you in the past."

He glanced at her and gave a weary sigh but said nothing.

The next morning, they had only journeyed a short time when they came to Amon Dîn and the Drúadan Forest. The royal trumpeters sounded, the drumming of the Drúadan in the forest reached a crescendo, and then Aragorn urged his horse forward till he stood alone a little way forward of the entire travelling party. Then he spoke loudly, so all could hear that the forest was hereby declared the domain of the Drúadan, that they would be left in peace to live their lives, by order of the King of Gondor and Arnor.

The drums fell silent, just as Penny knew they would, and the funeral train moved on, sweeping round the forest, on its way to Rohan.

The days took on the easy routine of travel that Penny had got so used to when they had travelled south. Admittedly, it was slightly different with so many others travelling with them now. There was less of a 'communal whole' about it all, with all the various campfires and the different meals. There was also the ever present wain with its sad burden. Merry barely left the dead King's side, riding with the wain every day and insisting on taking a shift amongst those who stood guard every night. Similarly Pippin insisted on serving Aragorn at any opportunity, or if he had no need of him, then Faramir. Frodo and Sam joked that they hardly saw either of them, but neither did they begrudge them their newfound loyalties and duties.

It did mean, given Pippin and Merry were often on official duties of an evening, that Frodo and Sam either took their meals with Aragorn or the elves, and more often the latter. For all Sam was still slightly shy and in awe of the elves, sitting in a large group of them with Dunedain was not nearly so awkward for him as quietly sitting next to Galadriel and trying to make small talk with Celeborn while at the same time negotiating a meal.

The two hobbits were quite open about their joy at being on their way home at last, and indeed to be free of the sight of Mordor.

"I am not saying that Gondor is not a wonderful place, with its finery and goodly people, but I shall be most glad if I never see those dark peaks ever again," Sam had said, and with some feeling.

No one blamed him in the least.

Arwen, Penny noted, spent as much time as she could with her elvish brethren. She had to ride with Aragorn, obviously, and meals were with him also, but of an evening she would wander amongst her own, Aragorn often with her also, seeking company and talking.

Elrond and her brothers hardly ever left her side at such times. It hurt Penny to see it, and she knew she was not the only one, from the sad smiles or shared knowing glances she would sometimes see around her. Everyone knew what was coming, and no one relished being in either Arwen's or Elrond's place when it came at last.

In fact, that very reason alone – that he was ever in Arwen's company when they stopped or set up camp - made it difficult for Penny to find any moment when she could talk to Elrond more privately, to discern how awry their relationship may or may not be. As the days progressed, she found herself turning over the question of where she would stay in her head. It even began to invade her dreams. Standing naked and horrified in the middle of the throne room in Minas Tirith was one that had her awake in a cold sweat, but then so did the one where she had eaten all the cabbages in Imladris and Elrond was so angry he was waving an axe at her. Admittedly the axe had morphed into a stick of broccoli at some point, but it had still been an alarming dream nonetheless.

Eleniel was no longer sharing a tent with them all, since the ladies-in-waiting were in a tent beside Arwen's; however one evening she and Mireth sat Penny down in the tent she shared with Mireth and asked what was troubling her. Mireth was aware of the bad dreams, given her bedroll was next to Penny's, and she had told Eleniel of her concerns.

Penny, of course, could not explain the situation, given that would necessitate explaining her wariness of taking advantage of Elrond's hospitality and the reasons for it. The ellith, therefore, only knowing the half of it, were immediately insistent she should return to Imladris.

"Gondor is not best suited to you. You struggled to fit in with their ways," Eleniel said. "I do not blame you in the least, though I know things will change, albeit slowly, with Arwen and Estel now having a say in the matter."

"You were happy with us in Imladris, were you not?" Mireth said, with not a little tone of hurt in her voice. "Why would you not consider Imladris an option to you? Lord Elrond has always said you were most welcome, and you are. You are a part of the place now. I shall miss you if you choose to leave us."

Penny had smiled sadly and thanked them and merely said it was slightly more complicated than a simple choice, that she had to think of her future and where her life might lead, which was true, of course, if not the main sticking point.

She knew they were right, though: Gondor was not the place for her. Not only that, but she was aware Halladan and Arvain had committed themselves to being her guardians, and wherever she might stay would affect them. She did not doubt for one moment Halladan would not choose to stay in Minas Tirith or near the Pelennor if he could possibly help it. He had spoken of Aragorn giving them land and an income, so perhaps that would be elsewhere, towards Lebennin or Dol Amroth, maybe?

Gah, there was just so much to consider and take in that it made her head spin. And, if she were honest, just the very idea of any one of the possible options put the wind up her, because every one of them brought it home that she was here to stay, that she would have to set up a house, run a home, forever gut her own rabbits, pluck her own ducks, hand wash her own dresses, never eat chocolate again and never wear a bra.

Speaking of which…

She had decided it was a situation she could deal with no more. Okay, she was not suffering by any means, but there was only so much a pair of breasts could take and sooner or later she was going to have to do something about it. She had mentioned it to Mireth and Eleniel in Minas Tirith, who had laughed but said they were sure they could design something that would suit. Penny was acutely aware that if she chose to stay in Minas Tirith, while Eleniel was a superb seamstress, it was unlikely that, as a close confidante of the Queen, it would be 'seemly' for someone of her station to make unusual undergarments, let alone to do so for some jumped-up stranger who had proved herself 'the Court Oddball' more than once. If Penny was in Imladris, therefore, the construction of, if not a bra, then some sort of 'supportive chemise' would be a fair easier affair.

A small thing, perhaps, but such things matter to a girl.

With all of this rampaging backwards and forwards in her head like a troop of charging heffalumps, it was quite a nice distraction for Penny to have others than just the elves around. If she had had to travel solely with elvish company so soon after what had happened with Elrond she was not sure she could have coped, so what with that, as well as the seemingly momentous decision she had to make in the near future, to have Halladan and Arvain to distract her helped hugely. Not only that, but there were tales to be heard and stories from both Rohirrim and Gondorians that she did not know and were fascinating. Depending on the nature of the tale, Halladan was not always around to translate for her (though he could not always easily escape it), so Arvain, Lindir or Mireth would do the honours if necessary.

The only slightly sour note was that Corunir seemed to have taken it into his head to befriend them all, or to have decided he had befriended Penny at least, and was regularly in their company every night. He seemed charming enough, but Penny noticed that even the others found his presence a little wearisome, his manner overbearing and slightly too self-assured given the company he was in. When a young man still in his teens felt he could talk over the top of a Dúnadan, or make quips at the expense of an ellon he barely knew, Penny suspected she was not the only one to think him in need of being taken down a peg or two.

On the third day of travelling there were growing grumblings in the elvish camp. Going that long without bathing was considered a grave hardship, if not an outrage, and some of the Galadhrim were bordering on taking it as some sort of personal insult that arrangements could not have been made sooner. Part of the difficulty was that, while the ellyn did not need worry so much about their human travellers catching sight of them, the ellith needed an even more protected place than usual in which to try and bathe given the size of the camp and the large numbers of men travelling with them (and in particular, as was pointed out by several, given the average mortal's inability to control themselves). This would be a golden opportunity for temptation, and the elves had not forgotten the reaction of the ladies of Gondor in trying to simply get a glimpse of them bare-chested and in their britches.

Thus what was needed was a stretch of water that was very heavily screened and could be well guarded from all angles, as well as having a suitable amount of space nearby for the female tents. It took three days before such a place could be found, and indeed they set up camp a little earlier than usual precisely because such a place had been spotted and the elves refused to move on and risk not finding another suitable place further along the water course. Riders from both groups of elves were sent forward to King Elessar and King Eomer to explain they would not go any further forward that day and why; the former understanding at once and the latter finding the whole situation rather bizarre but acquiescing nonetheless.

The tents for the women and ellith were set up all to one side, forming a barrier between the rest of the camp and the line of trees screening the water. In addition, a veritable horde of warrior ellyn made sure they guarded every possible access way to the water.

Then, and only then, could the bathing commence.

Arwen's ladies-in-waiting were invited to join them all. They were rather hesitant, but realised it was expected of them, that Arwen was joining in and that if Penny could do it, so could they. One of them even pulled Penny aside asking would it not be a little cold, and Penny assured them that it would be as nothing compared to the mountain streams she had had to endure West of the Misty Mountains, which got some wide-eyed blinking and a mere 'oh' by way of response.

The few women travelling with the baggage train, as cooks and washerwomen, seemed somewhat surprised to find various ellith seeking them out and asking if they would like to join them as well. At first several shook their heads vigorously, seeing it as some strange elvish thing ("who knows what sort of strange magic they may get up to in the water"), or else something for the nobility ("we are not queens or fine ladies, what do we want with washing?"), but eventually a brave soul said 'why not' and the rest warily followed suit.

The men in the camp seemed somewhat torn. Curiosity was a terrible thing, but negotiating warrior ellyn seemed infinitely worse, so the few younger and unmarried ne'er-do-wells who might have been otherwise tempted managed to restrain themselves. Even so, the thought of several hundred beautiful ellith completely in the nude only a few hundred feet away meant every attempt was made to distract the men, and as well as several loud songs being sung, the ale was cracked open before supper instead of after, and the last of the ellith and ladies to return from the river found several of the men exceedingly 'merry' already and night not yet fallen.

The Dúnedain were the only mortal group who seemed utterly unfazed by it all, knowing elvish custom as they did. There was some shaking of heads, and muttering of 'such a fuss about nothing', but all said in light-hearted manner and with a grin and a chuckle.

"Even you, Pen-ii? Ai, Elbereth, if proof were needed you have been overlong in elvish company…"

Penny stuck her tongue out at Arvain and went back to combing out her hair.

"Nothing wrong with being clean, Arvain. In fact, the idea of being filthy for days at a time fills me with horror."

Arvain and Faelon exchanged an amused glance.

"Remind me never to take you out in the wild with the Dúnedain in that case," muttered Arvain.

"You have rivers in the North," Penny retorted.

"When there is snow on the ground? Rather you than I, Pen-ii." Halladan laughed.

Penny could not think of an adequate response to that, and muttered something about a stand-up wash with warmed water still being a reasonable alternative. When Halladan pointed out you would still have to put stinking travel-worn clothes on your back afterwards and Faelon wondered loudly how advisable it would be to disrobe in the snow, Penny replied that it was the principle of the thing and good to make some sort of effort, at which point Arvain hooted that she had _definitely_ spent too long with elves if that was what she thought. Penny stomped back to her tent to finish combing her hair away from the laughter after that.

Two nights later Penny awoke from another bad dream. She could not remember what it was once she was fully awake, only that it had involved Gondor and a lot of screaming on her part with other people standing around and laughing at her.

She decided, while she was up, to visit the latrine. On her way back she became aware of a number of people still awake.

There were guards on duty round the camp, of course, both elf and man alike, and a few elves were still up, which was not unusual, but that so few were around did indicate that it was very late (at least the third watch). What seemed odd, therefore, especially given the lateness of the hour, was the amount of men who were not on guard duty and yet not taking the chance to sleep. There were not a huge amount of them, admittedly – only a few small groups or random individuals dotted here and there at nearly every campfire in the place – but even so: there were at least twenty or more people who clearly were not sleeping and yet had no reason to still be up that Penny knew of.

Then she saw Halladan, at some distance, quietly smoking his pipe, sitting in silence with a few other similarly dour looking individuals, and she suddenly twigged. Poor bastards. It occurred to her it must be incredibly difficult for them to be travelling with so many people, with little chance to cover any trauma or distress if they had to share a tent with several people, if they could never have their own space.

She quietly went back to her tent, but it took a long time to fall asleep, and not because she was worried about more nightmares.

Then the following night she was awoken by hurried whispering in her tent.

"What is it? What is happening?" she asked groggily.

"There was shouting just now… from one of the Rohirric tents, we think," an elleth explained.

"It was over quickly," Mireth went on, "but it is so sad to think…" She trailed off.

"There was an argument?" Penny was still half-asleep and slow on the uptake.

"No, no," the first elleth said. "The man was clearly having a bad dream. Something to do with the war. It can happen, soldiers can be affected that way. Frankly, I am surprised this is only the first such incident we have had, given the number of warriors here with memories still so fresh in their heads."

Penny was wide awake now, sitting bolt upright on her bedroll.

"Who was it? Do you know?"

"We do not know. I would imagine they would try and keep his identity hidden from most if they can," Mireth replied. "There is no shame in such things, perhaps, but I do not doubt the man in question would feel some nonetheless if he knew all the camp had heard him."

"Poor man," Penny whispered. She looked up and caught Mireth's eye for a moment. Mireth clearly felt as upset about this as Penny did.

Mireth went on to explain that such things could happen to elves, though not to the degree that it could affect a human.

"We have more control over how such things affect us. Grief, sorrow, shock… they are all things that can make an ellon seem very changed after he first comes back from war. I would think any ellon here who has seen battle, which is every one I believe, would have some appreciation of what that man has suffered, what he is going through, whoever he might be."

"Can Lord Elrond not heal him?"

"He could help certainly. As could Estel or Mithrandir or Lady Galadriel or even many of us here. I do not doubt several will have offered to help as best they might. It may be the Rohirrim have their own way of dealing with such things, I do not know. It is also dependent on the man wishing to be helped. It can be a matter of pride or even shame. Some men feel it is weakness on their part to be so affected."

Penny could well believe it.

Breakfast the following morning seemed more subdued than usual. Mireth's words the previous night explained why even the ellyn seemed out of sorts. Everyone was quiet, and there was an atmosphere as if everyone were treading on eggshells and no one wanted to bring up the one subject on everyone's minds. Only later did Penny run into Halladan, just after breakfast as they were each heading towards their tents to get their packs together and go and saddle up. He looked haggard and tired, and a little pale. She caught his eye for the briefest of moments as they almost came face to face and she opened her mouth to say something.

"Don't," he muttered.

It was all he said, and he walked on past her and away.

By evening the mood had lightened somewhat. Penny had studiously avoided Halladan at lunch (or had he been avoiding her – she was not entirely sure), but at supper all seemed forgotten and he was his usual affable self, gently ribbing Arvain over various boastful claims the latter was making.

"If you are such a great man, Arvain, how is it you did not allow any Gondorian maiden to snare you in the end? Too good for them, no doubt?"

"No," Arvain said slowly, aware that various Gondorian nobles were possibly within earshot and Corunir was sitting next to him.

"But he was to be betrothed to the fair Sidhwen, no?"

"That joke is getting rather old," Arvain snapped at Corunir. His clear annoyance only made the others laugh all the harder.

"And what of you, Lady Pen-ii?" Corunir directed his toothy smile in her direction. "Perhaps there is some young man in the North who awaits you? I feel sure there must be…"

Penny felt distinctly uncomfortable under his gaze. She shook her head and tried to change the subject.

"How long till we cross the border into Rohan?"

"Of course, I have been to Rohan several times before," Corunir drawled before anyone could answer Penny's question. He seemed to be speaking directly to Penny rather than to them all in general, and she felt she had little choice but respond.

"Really? Well, then perhaps you would know…"

"I have travelled quite widely, actually, given the circumstances of the times, of course. I was always out and about in Ithilien, pitting my wits against stray orcs…"

Penny noted that Arvain and Halladan looked sceptical to say the least.

"I thought Fimorndír said you had spent much of your youth in Lebennin," Arvain retorted.

Corunir's self-confidence seemed a little ruffled. "Well, only my _early_ childhood. And we still had our moments then, harried by pirates, you know," he explained to Penny. "Many was the time I had to defend my family even as a youngster."

Penny was not sure why she would be particularly interested since he was still directing most of his talk to her. Lindir spotted her slightly dazed, nonplussed expression and suppressed a snigger.

"The same is true for just about every warrior here," Celebdor pointed out.

Corunir seemed most put out.

"Well, yes, perhaps so, but not every one saw active fighting even as a boy."

"Do not be so certain," Halladan said quietly to no one in particular.

"Ah, yes… well, I…"

Penny thought it quite something to see Corunir at a loss for words. He was usually so supremely full of himself. He seemed particularly annoyed that this was being said in front of Penny, since he kept glancing at her as if to gauge her reaction to it all which confused her somewhat. She only hoped it did not imply what her gut instinct seemed to be trying to tell her it implied. He really did seem rather desperate to impress her.

"If you will excuse me," he said, still throwing polite slightly-too-wide smiles in Penny's direction. "I see my cousin and I needs must speak to him." He left hurriedly, clearly still rather put out at being reminded his boasts were nothing to speak of compared to those around him.

There were a few exchanged glances and wide grins.

"I do believe a certain young man is entertaining hopes," Arvain began with a sly smirk in Penny's direction. He got no further before Penny rounded on him and slapped him on the arm.

"Do not even jest about something like that, Arvain! It is not funny!"

"I was not joking!" Arvain sounded slightly affronted.

The expression on Penny's face as she realised with horror that they indeed thought what she had suspected she was imagining was priceless. Celebdor and Lindir were nearly on the floor with hysterics and Halladan was doing his best to keep his sniggering as surreptitious as possible by shoving his nose into his cup of ale.

"Oh, stop it!" Mireth scolded them. "Pay them no heed, Pen-ii. I think Corunir is a delightful young man…"

"WHAT!" Penny looked even more appalled, which only brought more howls of laughter from Lindir and Celebdor.

"Well, a little over-sure of himself, perhaps, but I think that is only because he wishes you to think well of him."

Words failed Penny at that point.

"I think, Mireth," Lindir said between gulps of air, "that Pen-ii is somewhat taken aback at the thought."

"That is something of an understatement," Penny said with feeling, finally finding her voice. She looked back to where Corunir was now at some distance to them, talking to a group that included Fimorndír, Meresel's husband. "I mean… he is just a boy!"

"He is nearly twenty," Arvain pointed out. "And seen battle."

"Very well, he looks like a boy then," Penny corrected, even if it was still something of an exaggeration.

"Well, yes, I will admit he does look very young," Mireth conceded.

"He also reminds me far too much of my brother."

"Ahhh."

Everyone looked at Halladan.

"What? Oh, forgive me, it is just that explains why Pen-ii looks at him over-long at times. I had begun to wonder if…"

Penny positively glared at him. Halladan held his hands up apologetically, clearly trying to suppress a smile. Arvain, Lindir and Celebdor looked in danger of getting the giggles all over again.

"What I meant was that he seems… oh, I do not know, he just strikes me as having the same sort of attitude and character."

"I thought you did not get on with your brother?" Lindir said.

"Exactly."

"Ah."

"If I were honest? I am not sure I would trust Corunir as far as I could throw him."

There was a brief moment of silence before there was more laughter and confused looks.

"I take it you do not have that expression in Sindarin?"

No, clearly they did not, and the idea of Penny staggering about trying to throw anyone anywhere was one that they all found highly entertaining. They did take her point, though.

"You mean he is untrustworthy?" Mireth's voice cut through the laughter, and had a tone of seriousness to it.

"No, not that so much as that it strikes me he does not fully understand what it is to be responsible. He has that same attitude, that same look about him as my brother: thinks far too much of himself, over confident, but unwilling to do what others may want or need, unwilling to think of anyone except himself. Selfish. Selfish and arrogant and irresponsible."

She had not realised quite how much feeling she had put into her words, but she noticed the awkward coughs and hooded exchanging of glances.

"I mean my brother, not Corunir," she added hurriedly. "I hardly know Corunir."

"Oh, I think you have given a fairly good assessment of his character, from what little I know of him," Arvain replied.

"Have no fear, Pen-ii," Halladan said with a grin as he helped himself to more ale, "as your guardians Arvain and I both have a say in who would make a suitable match for you, and Corunir would not be it."

Penny thought about saying something about being perfectly able to make her own decisions about such things, thank you very much, but decided now was not the time and let that one slide for the time being.

As it was, that was the last time Corunir tried to intrude on their evening chats (and it really had seemed like an intrusion on occasion). Whether someone had said something to him or he had decided it was a lost cause, Penny did not know and decided she did not want to know. The whole thing had been too weird to think about. She had enough on her plate right now without worrying about lovesick teens… Okay, that was probably a little harsh – he had hardly been mooning over her - but even so she could have done without it all.

What she did not know was that later that same night Fimorndír pulled Halladan to one side, asking him to keep an eye on Corunir and divert the young man's attention away from Penny.

"I overheard the little runt chatting with friends," Fimorndír said through gritted teeth. "I like Lady Pen-ii, and I know she and Meresel have become good friends even in the short time they have known each other. Corunir, on the other hand, would be well served by a cuff or two about the head had I my way, but no matter. Suffice it to say, he was boasting that he thought it might be a great game to try and woo her, as much as anything due to her reputation at the court and how annoyed his mother would be if she got to hear about his intentions." He held out an arm and stayed Halladan who had suddenly looked about him with a furious glare as if seeking Corunir out. "Hold, hold, Halladan. I have spoken to him, and most severely, might I add. Were it not for the scandal it would have caused, I would have sent him packing back to Gondor then and there, and if I can yet devise a way to send him elsewhere on an errand I shall do so. He will not be attempting any such thing, I can assure you, or at least not where I might learn of it. I thought it as well to tell you, as her guardian, so that you could also keep your eyes sharp."

Halladan thanked him, his face as black as thunder. When he returned to the campfire he barely said a word to anyone and seemed very out of sorts. If any Gondorian passed nearby, he looked up sharply, as if he was on the lookout for someone in particular. Arvain looked at him questioningly and simply got a slight shake of the head by way of response which he understood to mean 'not now, I'll tell you later.'

Eventually Penny quietly asked Halladan if he was upset about something. Only then did his expression soften a little.

"Yes, but it will pass. It is nothing you have done, Pen-ii, do not concern yourself."

He smiled then and she relaxed a little, though she watched him for the rest of the evening in the short amount of time she stayed before going to bed. She knew he was still bottling things up, still trying to cope, and for all he had left the memories of Gondor behind him, he was now travelling in the company of warriors, several of whom were obviously suffering just as he was, and hearing tales of battles she knew he would fain forget nearly every night.

She was worried the cracks were beginning to show.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

The oblique reference to the conversation between Eomer and Gimli is explained in Many Partings (ROTK) where Eomer apologises to Gimli for his rash words regarding Galadriel when they first met back in Rohan since, of course, he has now seen her. He still insists she is not the fairest female he has seen, since that is Arwen in his opinion. Gimli accepts that even if he does not agree, saying one is like the dawn and the other like the dusk.

The chapter contains the second reference to 'white cakes' (the first being when Mireth and Penny go down the First Circle and back a day or two after the wedding). To explain for those as are unfamiliar with the books: Pippin is offered a drink and white cakes when he first meets Denethor and later complains to Beregond it's all he's had for breakfast. Also, the reference to Pippin bowing his head when he hears the Rohirric horns is another detail from the books, where it said, after hearing the horns as the Rohirrim charged onto the Pelennor after all hope had been lost in Minas Tirith that they would arrive in time, Pippin could never again hear horns blown without getting tears in his eyes.

The observant among you will notice Beregond is among the company when last chapter I had Pippin saying goodbye to him. That is because that paragraph was cut from the last chapter after it was pointed out to me that, of course, Beregond would travel with his captain, Faramir. Thanks to Lindelea. :)

My apologies for the long wait readers have had for this chapter. Various things conspired together to make writing difficult, impossible or plain slow. This is why updates are haphazard – sometimes quick and at other times taking a while. If in doubt as to what is up, you can always check my LJ where I do try and keep people posted as to where I'm at and what is happening. My sincere thanks, as ever, to all those reading and in particular those who take time out to let me know their thoughts and responses to it all – it means a lot. :)


	38. Persuasion

**Chapter 38** – _"Persuasion"_

At breakfast the next morning, it became apparent that Halladan's mood was no less dark than it had been the night before, when he was overly sharp to Rhimlath over some typically sweeping comment the elf had made. Rhimlath raised a surprised eyebrow at Halladan, who simply muttered something about going to ready his saddle and left his bread and fruit unfinished.

Penny looked at Arvain, but he just sighed and shook his head.

What she did not know, but would soon become clear, was that the mood of the camp was still unchanged from the previous day and, if anything, had only deepened further. The previous night, when the first flush of rage toward Corunir had begun to dissipate, Halladan had then found his mood was not helped by the discussions he became an unwilling, silent party to, and they continued late into the night, long after Penny had retired to her bedroll. Perhaps it was an inevitable consequence of everyone having heard the horselord's cries the night before (and knowing full well what they had implied), but many topics of conversation that night throughout the camp had turned to the War and the details thereof: what men had witnessed.

This continued for the next couple of days, particularly late in the evenings when there were low murmurings in quiet corners throughout the camp about how it seemed such and such a person had been affected by what he had seen in the War, or how another of their huge party had supposedly been found weeping alone in a tent a day or two before. Isolated cases, it had to be said, and the identities of those concerned were usually kept secret, but even so talk was rife.

It was not malicious or gossipy. The majority of those discussing such things were warrior males who well understood such things, some of whom even had prior experience of how people could be so affected and perhaps had even been affected themselves in years gone by in the case of the ellyn and one or two of the older men. Rather, such discussions seemed to form some sort of common bonding, an excuse for those involved to unburden themselves a little.

It had to be said the consumption of alcohol in certain sections of the camp increased considerably as well, however.

These discussions were also a wholly male domain. The few women and many ellith in the camp were not included in such talk for several reasons, though there were two main ones. Firstly, this was largely a mortal problem (in that the few members of the camp known to be suffering were all mortals), and thus did not concern the ellith directly. Secondly, there was a sense that some of the graphic nature of such discussions ("he saw his father cleaved in two in front of him") was not for female ears, however much it was the case that several of the ellith were battle-trained, and many of them and the women had helped the wounded from the battlefield in their time. The menfolk in particular would not have understood if females were included in such talk, but would naturally want to protect them from knowing the full horror of war if they possibly could – a sentiment the ellyn wholeheartedly agreed with.

Of course, by the end of that same evening Arwen and Galadriel had got to hear of what was going on and slowly word spread through the female contingent about the general mood amongst the warriors, as much as a warning to expect some dark moods or even violent outbursts (though everyone hoped it would not come to that, of course). It might be best, it was suggested, to leave the men to it while also being prepared to step in if some sort of distraction was asked for or help needed. It also provided an explanation at last for those few times when groups of females had happened upon small huddles of men or ellyn who had been talking with low voices and serious faces and yet the conversation had died away as soon as the presence of females was noted.

The moment Penny heard about it from Mireth in their tent as they settled down for the night, her main concern was Halladan. She was not sure if this would help him or make things worse. It might be that to have that level of understanding and support around him would help him to free himself of some of the horror that was burdening him. Then again it could just as easily trigger things best not triggered and make matters that much more difficult for him, and given the filthy mood he had been in of late, she suspected the latter. She only wished she had some better understanding, some medical background, and then she could have given him some genuinely helpful advice. As it was she had to sit back and let nature take its course.

That said, those who were considered to be badly affected by the War were rarely party to such discussions since those who actually knew who was so affected knew better than to broach the subject in their presence, and the ellyn generally had a fair instinct as to who might find such things a little difficult to discuss. There were moments, however, almost inevitably, when such an individual found himself in the midst of men swapping tales of the horrors they had seen, of how it could turn the stomach if not the mind of any sane man, however strong and brave he may be.

"… no one would have thought it of him, and yet he was on his knees on the battlefield, weeping like a child…"

"… I saw dreadful things… The things those beasts did to the dead…it would make me ill to describe it… "

"… and one had this great axe… well, you know the damage those things can do… there was little left of him once it had finished with him. There was no body to bury. Out all night his father was, calling for him in the dark, much as we tried to stop him. Terrible business…"

Halladan was certainly noticeably more tense. His temper was shorter and he would actively seek out privacy and solitude. He offered himself for guard duty on an all-too-regular basis, and Aragorn granted it to him without question, which was in itself significant, perhaps. Even when not on guard duty, he would invariably remove himself from the company, light his pipe and sit on his own in the dark, staring out into the night.

Anything to get away from the whispered, shared camaraderie, the communal tales of blood and horror.

"Halladan?"

He glanced up to see Penny hovering nearby. It was the evening of the seventh day of travel, and he was sitting in the dark on the edge of the camp just out of the reach of the lanterns and campfires.

"Yes?" His tone was perhaps a little sharper than he had intended.

Penny hesitated, unsure and uncertain.

"If you do not wish for company, then just say so. I just thought…"

He shrugged in an 'it's a free country, you can do as you please' sort of fashion before turning back to stare out at the copse of trees just visible in the thickening gloom ahead of him. Penny took that as a tacit acceptance of her presence and sat down next to him. For a long time she said nothing. Halladan shifted slightly, hissing and wincing a little as he did so, massaging at his thigh.

"Are you kneading your leg regularly as the healers advised you to do?"

"Yes." Again that snappy tone, the hint of irritation.

"Every day?"

There was no response. Penny wondered if she should respond with something joking like 'what are we to do with you, eh?' but, given Halladan was her senior by seven years or so, as well as her guardian (let alone behaving like a bear with a sore head all evening) it would probably come across badly. She opted for a smile and a friendly, well-meaning tone instead.

"I shall try and get back into the habit of reminding you in that case. I had got out of the habit with travelling. The sooner you can get rid of that stick the better."

"Is it that abhorrent?"

She gasped.

"That is not what I meant, and you know it!"

She could feel her hackles rise. He was being deliberately argumentative. If she was that much of an irritant, he could have just said he wanted to be left alone, not allow her to sit down and then behave like this.

"I thought you wanted to get back as much use in your leg as possible? Not only that, but I cannot imagine riding or walking all day can be helping much."

Halladan's only response was a sort of snorting sound. Whether it was an expression of derision that she should attempt to show some understanding of his injury, or a wry sound to indicate that, yeah, sitting in one position or walking for hours at a stretch were indeed not the best things to be doing, Penny was not sure. It could have been either, frankly. Penny was trying not to take his mood personally and was wondering if coming to join him, as she often had in the courtyard in front of the Citadel, had been the best idea. Perhaps it would be better if she just left him to it, if he was going to continue to be like this.

Another long silence elapsed before Penny spoke again, trying to keep her voice quiet and her tone sincere, trying to offer him some sort of friendship, some understanding.

"Forgive me for asking this, but are things getting difficult for you in the camp?"

"No," he replied, breathing heavily through his nose. "Should they be?"

"Well, if even I am aware of the topic of some conversations going round of late… It must be hard for you. I cannot tell you if it is a good thing, an opportunity… or something to be avoided. I wish I could advise you better…"

"And it is your place to advise me, is it?"

She looked at him, taken aback. "Well, no, of course not, I just… I mean…"

He got to his feet.

"I am going for a walk," he said brusquely, and strode off into the darkness.

Penny blinked after him, feeling a weight settle in her stomach.

"Well, that went just swimmingly, Penny," she muttered to herself, scathingly. "Well bloody done."

She knew it was not directed at her particularly (or she hoped it was not) since he had been like this with just about everyone for nearly two days now, with Arvain getting the worst of it from what Penny could see. She still felt that surge of outraged annoyance of someone unfairly treated, though, as well as a pang of something like hurt, which was a little upsetting.

There was the soft tread of a boot behind her.

"Pay him no heed, Pen-ii. He is a little out of sorts of late, that is all. He does not mean it."

Penny nodded but said nothing. She knew he was right. It was still hard to be on the receiving end of it, though.

Arvain came to sit next to her, taking the place Halladan had just left.

"All this talk in the camp is difficult for him." He paused for some time before continuing. "He saw things, Pen-ii, things that no one should ever see."

"I know." She looked at him. "Faelon told me what happened."

"Ah." Arvain nodded slowly, not looking at her. "Halladan… he was always the one who took things upon himself, and he took Hirvell's death very hard. It was to be expected, perhaps."

There was an edge to his voice, however, a hint of bitterness than Penny was not sure she had ever heard him use before.

"You resent him for it?"

"No!" He looked at her then. "No, not in the least! Why did you..?"

"Just your tone of voice. And Faelon said something…"

Arvain's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed.

"He knows you better than I, Arvain. He felt that you had never quite got over what happened, in your own way."

It took some time for Arvain's gaze to fall away, his brow furrowing further still, as if slowly assessing what she was saying. Penny noted he did not deny it, but then he did not reply at all either. What was it with these damn warriors not wanting to talk about anything?

"Those men in your history," Arvain said quietly after several minutes, "The ones who fought in that war, who became ill… Did they get well?"

"Some. Many were left untreated. It was not fully understood at the time what they were going through. It took many years for it to be understood and accepted." She looked at him. "Mireth tells me that there are many here in the camp who can help the men who are affected. You know that. You know what was being done to help Hiluin right up till the day we left the city."

Hiluin had been left in the care of the healers. The day they left, his wife had shown some improvement and, while still gravely ill, was out of danger for the time being. It was hoped Aragorn would return to find Hiluin responsive and healing at last.

Arvain nodded slowly. When he spoke at last his voice was quiet.

"He was not like this at first. He was injured, and it took time for him to recover, and that meant he was not himself, but only as anyone gravely injured may seem a little different. Then the old Halladan was back. The moment he was able to get off his cot and start walking about, he seemed like his old self. But then slowly in recent months…" He glanced at her, as if unsure whether to continue, whether to divulge what was probably private information. "He rarely sleeps, or does so only for short amounts of time. That cannot be good for him."

"It is one of the symptoms. Memories invade their dreams. He might suffer nightmares."

She spoke in possibilities, aware that she should not let Arvain know just how much she knew, what she had been a witness to.

Arvain nodded. "Yes, I know." Again he paused. "And he does."

He said it with such feeling that Penny instantly realised that he had, in all probability, actually coaxed Halladan through such moments. They had shared lodgings in Minas Tirith, after all.

"It only happened once… No, that is not true. It happened a few times, but the first and only time I actually intervened, tried to comfort him after he woke…"

He trailed off and Penny wondered how that must have been for him, to lie awake at night and hear his brother's nightmares, worrying whether to wake him or even refer to them at all once dawn had come. What had driven Arvain to take the plunge at last? Had it been a particular dream that had so upset him so that he had felt compelled to intervene? Or had he just been unable to endure it any longer, unable to lie there doing nothing and letting Halladan suffer?

"He made sure to try and keep his sleep interrupted after that, spent long hours away from our lodgings at night."

Again that note of bitterness. Was Arvain frustrated at being shut out too? And he had more right, _far_ more right than any Penny could claim to such frustration.

"You should talk to him."

There was a hollow laugh from Arvain. "You are joking, surely?"

"Not in the least."

Arvain looked at her. "The last thing Halladan wants is for me to talk to him about this. He has made that very clear."

"I am sure he has. I still think you should persevere. It is for his own good. Perhaps seek advice from King Elessar? Or Mithrandir?"

"Pen-ii, do you have any idea what Halladan would do if he knew I had discussed this with you, let alone thought I had mentioned it to Aragorn or Gandalf? He is a proud man. Proud, and as stubborn as a mule."

Penny had promised Halladan she would not mention his condition to anyone, and she had not: Arvain had broached the subject, and she had replied as if from her little knowledge of such things from the First World War and what Faelon had told her. Arvain knew she had some understanding about these things so would not consider it unusual that she could guess at what he was telling her. In fact that was possibly why he felt comfortable with sharing this information with her.

She had not broken her promise, she told herself.

Or at least she hoped Halladan would agree with her if he ever found out about this.

"They might already realise."

"That is not the point, though you are probably right. They have known him all his life. They can see how he has changed and easily guess the reasons for it. All this talk in the camp of late has only served to make it all the clearer how he is suffering. They cannot have failed to have noticed."

"You could talk in general terms. Seek advice for an unknown person, or just ask how they would best tackle such a situation if they were faced with it."

Arvain shook his head. "No, I shall wait for him to talk to me or else come to terms with it in his own time."

"And if that does not happen, Arvain? What then?"

He did not reply, though he threw her a worried glance.

After some time Penny rose, saying she should head back to join Mireth and the others. Arvain nodded, replying he would stay where he was for a little while longer.

As Penny made her way back to the campfire she mulled over her conversation with Arvain. It was not that Arvain feared his brother, Penny realised that. It was that he respected him, as well as loved him dearly, and perhaps on some level still ultimately trusted his judgement, trusted Halladan to know if he could or could not cope. It would take a lot for Arvain to risk Halladan's anger in broaching the subject with him himself. Whatever had passed between them during that one time Arvain had sought to help Halladan with his night terrors had put paid to him trying anything like that again. Given Halladan's reaction to Penny on the Pelennor, she could only imagine how he had reacted to Arvain shaking him awake from something horrific. If Halladan had still been half asleep and faced with someone with whom he felt he could speak freely, Penny did not doubt Arvain had indeed felt the sharp end of Halladan's tongue and the full force of his fury, fuelled as he no doubt would have been by his shame that such a thing was happening to him, let alone that his brother now knew about it.

It was still relatively early, so Penny remained at the campfire for quite some time. Arwen was there and called Penny over to sit with her as she, Mireth and Eleniel chatted away.

A little to one side sat Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel. Glorfindel was also with them, and as Penny passed by them, he asked if she would like to join them. Penny hesitated, glancing at Elrond before apologising and explaining Arwen had already asked her to join her. She thanked them and wished them a pleasant evening.

Perhaps she imagined it but it seemed as if Elrond, his head bowed and not looking in her direction, nodded gently, almost imperceptibly and as if to himself, as she spoke.

Elladan and Elrohir were seated with Arwen, smiling into their cups of wine at every story being told. Many seemed to concern Arwen's youth, which Penny found fascinating if a little sad at the same time: reminiscences being shared before they all parted company. She also wondered if this was why Elrond was not seated with his daughter for once, if that was the topic of conversation.

The elves seemed the only ones in relatively high spirits, though even their general demeanour was more subdued than usual. It seemed quiet in the Gondorian and Rohirric parts of the camp – a low murmur with little singing and no laughter.

Aragorn was nowhere to be seen amongst the elves. For the last two nights he and Gandalf had been spending their evenings with the men, talking quietly round campfires as they smoked their pipes, providing some words of comfort, wisdom and reassurance to the restless. Narya's strength had waned considerably, but not completely. That and Gandalf's innate wisdom worked wonders and many hearts were the lighter for his company. He was 'Old Stormcrow' no more.

Many of the Dunedain had also taken it upon themselves to sit with their fellow mortal warriors, a strong calming presence amid the talk of butchery and loss. So too Faramir and Eomer, well respected and well loved by all, did their part. Indeed, had they not lost and suffered also? The ellyn would occasionally join them, but mainly this was a mortal affair and left in the hands of the great and good amongst the mortals (and Gandalf who was so well known to both Gondorians and Rohirrim). The elves waited to be called upon if needed.

There was no sign of Halladan for the rest of the evening.

Arwen noted Penny seemed a little out of sorts, and asked if all was well. Penny attempted to bluff it, but elves were ever perceptive and it was Elladan who wondered out loud and with a sympathetic expression if it was the general mood of the camp that was affecting her. Penny was forced to admit it was, though she said nothing about Halladan.

"Perhaps it will be of comfort to some, a means of healing," Arwen said to Penny. "Many will talk more freely than they ever might have in other circumstances."

"And for those that will not talk? That refuse, I mean, or find it beyond their ability?"

Elladan gave Penny a knowing look but said nothing. Elrohir glanced at his brother, as if Elladan had said something out loud to him (though he had not), and nodded in agreement. Both then shook their heads despairingly. They knew Halladan well, as did all the elves from Imladris. Arvain and Penny were not the only ones to have their eye on him with some concern.

"Oh, give them time. Who can say how they might yet react?"

Arwen smiled and took Penny's hand, and Penny was not sure why but she felt comforted for a moment.

Once in her tent, however, Arwen's infectious optimism began to fade and Penny could not sleep. Her chats with Halladan and Arvain were once more running round Penny's head (along with everything else) and unsettling her. It was all none of her business, perhaps, but at the same time these two men were now her guardians: they were in her life for life (if she stayed for life, that was) and, even though she had only known them for something over a month, she felt that their commitment to her meant this business involved her as much as it did anyone else, whether she (or they) liked it or not. They had taken her on as some sort of adopted or honorary family in a way, which meant it was only right she give a damn, never mind what Halladan seemed to think.

She got up off her bedroll, pulled a dress on over her head, grabbed Mireth's spare shawl and headed out.

She was not sure where she was going. It just seemed pointless to lie there staring at the tent walls not sleeping and with a thousand and one worries running about her head driving her crazy. She was seriously tempted to track down Naurdir and wheedle a jug of wine out of him to have to herself – it was certainly what old Penny would have done – but perhaps it was not the best thing to do. She wandered amongst the elvish tents, debating whether if not a jug then one large cup of wine might not be just the thing to help her sleep and without really thinking about where she was going.

"Best not go wandering off into the dark," a voice said. "The last thing we need is to have to get up a search party in the middle of the night."

Penny was brought up to a halt. She looked around her and realised that she had actually stepped beyond the last tent and was several feet into the darkness. Ahead of her a tall figure showed up dark against the stars. She had recognised his voice.

"Well, at least you are talking to me now," she said.

There was a pause and then a suitably conciliatory tone from Halladan. "Yes, forgive me if I was short with you earlier. It was not my intention. It is just…"

"I know. I mentioned things you would rather not think about. My apologies."

"Accepted, though I should apologise to you. I realise you were only speaking from your concern for me. I should not have reacted as I did."

"Also accepted. We are still friends then?"

He was close enough now that she could see him smile.

"What are you doing out here? Did you get lost?"

"No. I could not sleep. I was just walking around without thinking where I was going. I was wondering if I should get some wine."

Halladan raised an eyebrow.

"I felt in need of a drink."

"And you think that will help you?"

"We have a saying: 'the pot calling the kettle black'. Does that make any sense to you?"

Perhaps she was more tired than she realised, given she seemed not to think twice about poking the bear.

"I can guess at the sense of it," Halladan said slowly. He paused. "You are being rather blunt."

"You strike me as a man who speaks plainly, Halladan. I had assumed you preferred others to do the same."

Again that smile, this time with a few nods of the head. "It was a fair point well made," he conceded.

"Should you be getting back on guard? I mean, am I allowed to talk to you?"

He laughed then. "Of course. I can still keep my ears and eyes open while talking a little."

A man? Multitasking? Well, wasn't he the novelty!

Penny suppressed the urge to snigger.

"I take it," he continued, "that you wish to stay for a little while? I am not sure I make good company at the moment, but you are welcome, though you would be better served by trying to get some rest."

He was clearly making a monumental effort to make up for his previous lack of good grace. Penny did not doubt for a moment he would probably prefer to be left alone. Even so, he had made the offer and she would appreciate a distraction from her thoughts as well as the pleasure of his company. So when he turned back and began to walk slowly a little way from the camp Penny came alongside him.

"Were it not for the fact that you are on guard duty, I could say the same of you: that you would be better served by trying to get some rest." She glanced up at him. "You have been looking tired of late, Halladan. Are you sleeping at _all_?"

Halladan's jaw went tight. "Pen-ii," he said in a warning tone, "please, can we leave this?"

"Forgive me, Halladan, but if I have noticed, others who know you better than I will have done so also."

"Do you think I do not know that?" His voice was strained, as if speaking through clenched teeth.

Penny shut up, and they walked in silence for a few minutes more, but she was unable to restrain herself. He was being pleasant and open for the first time in days and she was determined to have her say.

"Arvain is worried about you."

Halladan stopped and looked at her. He did not need to ask the question.

"He spoke to me…" She could see the change in his face. "Do not be angry, Halladan! He said little and only did so at all because he heard me speak of such things in Minas Tirith that time. I stood by my promise to you, I swear it. I gave him no indication of what I know or how. Do not blame Arvain, either. He was not seeking advice, merely… explaining."

"Explaining?" Halladan's voice was taut with emotion, though whether anger or something else Penny was not entirely sure.

"He saw me trying to talk to you earlier and how you reacted."

There was a beat. "Ah." Another pause. "And what did you say to him?"

"That he should talk to you."

Halladan gave an exasperated sigh.

"He effectively told me I was mad, you will be pleased to hear, that you would probably be furious if you knew he had spoken to me and that my suggestion he talk to Aragorn or Mithrandir was even worse. He says he will wait for you to talk to him or sort it out yourself."

Halladan said nothing. Penny could not tell what his reaction to all this was. Well, here went nothing, she supposed…

"Can I express my opinion without losing my head?"

Penny took Halladan's continued silence as a 'yes, if you have to.'

"I think you are both wrong, and both as stubborn as each other. Of course, that is only my opinion and I could be just as wrong as I think you both are, but there you are."

She began to walk again, not wanting to wait around to hear him explode, but the explosion never came. After a few seconds she realised he also was not following her. She stopped and turned back to see him standing stock still where she had left him.

"Halladan?"

"What would you have me say to him, Pen-ii?"

It was a rhetorical question and his tone was not aggressive or accusatory. It was not even angry. He sounded almost deflated, not defeated exactly, more resigned to a seemingly hopeless situation. It was certainly clear he was at a loss to know what talking to his brother would achieve.

"There is nothing I need to say to him. He knows and I know, and that is an end to it. With time it will pass, perhaps, and if not, then I am more marred than I could ever have dreamed it was possible to be."

Penny walked back towards him.

"Marred? How are you marred?"

Halladan opened his mouth to speak, but Penny rattled on straight across him.

"What in Arda are you talking about? So your leg is damaged, yes, but it will heal and heal well enough that you can consider yourself more fortunate than many. Yes, you saw and experienced terrible things that distress you, but that does not make you less of a man, Halladan, and how dare you think that it does! Perhaps I did not know your father well, but I can well believe he would be livid if he heard you speak this way! You would not dream of saying it of any of the other men who are suffering like you," she added, waving her hand vaguely at the camp as she did so, "so why about yourself?"

"Because it is how I feel? It is how every one of those men you talk about so glibly feel!" Penny could hear the momentary flash of anger in his voice, though it quickly changed to bitterness. "I cannot change how I am, or even control it, Pen-ii! How can that make me anything close to the man I used to be?"

For a moment they stood still, Penny trying to find the right words and Halladan no doubt taking her silence for agreement. He turned away sharply as if to begin walking once more, but Penny's voice stayed him.

"I think that it is only to be expected that you should feel that way. It does not mean it is true, but it is entirely understandable that you think it is. But then just to voice it, if only to a few who know you well, who already know what you cannot express, that may help."

Halladan had turned to look at Penny as she spoke and she could see he was looking confused and sceptical. She was aware she was not expressing herself well, let alone that what she was suggesting was probably an utterly alien concept to him: burly great Dunadan warriors did not 'share' or 'express their feelings' or generally do much that was not burly or manly, it would seem.

"At the moment, for example, Arvain knows perfectly well that you are suffering, but he dares not mention it to you, and you refuse to talk to him about it. He wants to help you if he can, or at least be there for you as a brother who loves you, but you will not let him, which, in my opinion, is not helping him or you. It is as if there were a huge oliphaunt sitting in your tent with the pair of you and you are both trying to ignore it and pretend it is not there."

Halladan looked at her. "Is that another one of your language's turns of phrase?"

She nodded. He shook his head wearily and with the hint of a smile, or it could be Penny imagined it.

"You understand the point I am making, though? Once everyone says 'Oh, look, there is an oliphaunt in the corner,' then something can be done about it, even if the decision is to allow the oliphaunt to carrying on sitting there, minding its own business."

Halladan had an expression on his face that indicated he thought Penny was losing her marbles.

"Could we stop talking about oliphaunts sitting calmly in tents, do you think? Trust me, they are anything but calm."

"Oh, small ones are very sweet. In my time they are a slightly different, smaller breed. It is the males you need to watch out for – they will charge you and can be dangerous - but the others are lovely. Very intelligent animals. Killed for their…" She made 'tusk' motions.

"Tusks."

"'Tusks'?" She repeated the unfamiliar word. "The long, curved pointed things…" She saw Halladan nodding. "Ah, then, yes, tusks. Very sad."

Halladan blinked.

"How did we get onto the subject of oliphaunts?"

"My apologies." She smiled sheepishly. "I am serious, though, Halladan. I cannot tell you what to do, how best to cope, but you need to accept and acknowledge that you are not well and that you are finding it difficult to cope with what you experienced. And I do not count myself in this. You were forced to admit it to me due to what happened on the Pelennor. No, what I am talking about is you accepting it as a truth and then admitting it from your own strength of will to those who need to hear you say it. I suspect that is all Arvain wants and needs: for you to just say it out loud to him… or it will be a start at least. If you do not want him to refer to it again, or help you, or discuss it, then that is your choice, but at least tell him, include him in what is happening in your life. Not only him, I would imagine. Do you not think Aragorn is aware of how you are hurting? Or Faelon? Or Lindir?"

Halladan said nothing.

"Halladan, let me put it this way: if your situations were reversed, if it were Arvain who was suffering as you are now, if it had been him who had been there instead of you, would you not want to help him, want him to talk to you, even if it was just to acknowledge that he was hurting terribly and that he needed time to deal with it alone? Not that I think that trying to deal with it alone would be the best way to deal with it, myself," she added, "but I am no expert…"

There was a very long pause during which time Halladan seemed to find the grass near Penny's feet incredibly interesting and then the landscape somewhere off to his left. Then he nodded slowly several times before he finally looked at her.

"In your time, what do they do for…?"

"I cannot tell you. Healing is greatly advanced in my time, as you know – there is much that can be done and many illnesses cured – but I am not a trained healer, I have little to no knowledge of how it works. I am sorry." She shrugged. "I imagine it depends on the person and whatever they have experienced that made them ill. Some will have medicine, some will talk and that may well involve actually talking about whatever lead to the illness in the first place…" She saw Halladan flinch. "I do not know if that is case or if it would work for everyone," she added hastily. "For some it may be enough to find ways of coping, but with openness and honesty about what they are suffering, not pretending nothing is happening and hoping it will all go away by itself. Bottling things up does not help. Nor does drink, as you yourself just said. You have to accept this is happening to you and then find ways of dealing with it…" Halladan made an exasperated, restless movement. "No, Halladan, _practical _ways, not snapping at people day and night or downing as much ale as you can lay your hands on."

"Am I to expect a lot of this sort of thing now that I am your guardian?"

"A lot of what sort of thing?"

"You talking to me as if you were my mother."

"What!"

"It is true!"

"You asked me and I answered you!"

He hesitated for a moment.

"Yes, I suppose I did. It was my own fault."

He started walking once more, Penny falling in step beside him, their path running parallel with the camp and the nearest line of tents. Halladan glanced sideways at her.

"I… I thank you for being frank with me."

She smiled and he gave a faltering smile in return before turning back to look ahead of them once more as they walked.

"Halladan," Penny asked, curiously, "why are you not biting my head off?"

"I did a lot of thinking this evening. I realised I had been unfair to you earlier, so I am trying my best to stay calm."

"'Trying your best'? Is it that difficult?"

"It is not easy for me to hear these things, Pen-ii," he said quietly.

She nodded. That was fair enough.

"And will you act on them?"

He stopped and looked at her. "Do not ask it of me. I told you that before. You asked me to think about what you said to me that day on the Pelennor, and I did. I still do. I will think about what you have said to me this night also. But to act on it… It is contrary to my nature, Pen-ii. For all that I can see some wisdom in what you say, I cannot promise you anything."

"Halladan, please. This is serious." Her tone was urgent suddenly, her face earnest as she looked up at him in the darkness. She instinctively grabbed his hand. "I am worried about you. I was worried as soon as I realised what the mood in the camp was these last few days."

Halladan smiled softly as he looked at her for a moment, then he lifted his hand from her hold on it to her cheek.

"Do not be worried, Pen-ii," he said gently, "Please. I would not carry that burden also."

He gave her another sad, gentle smile and then let his hand fall away. He turned back to the camp and began to head towards it.

"It is late. You should get some rest."

Penny nodded and slowly followed after him. For a few seconds, though, she could still feel the lingering warmth of his hand against her cheek, how soft and gentle his touch had been despite his having found parts of the conversation difficult and his earlier irritation with her. It was quite a nice sensation, and she smiled to herself in the darkness in spite of herself.

They had barely gone more than a few steps when Halladan froze at the same as his head snapped round to the right, though Penny had not heard a thing herself. He held out an arm to stop Penny. He squinted, peering out into the darkness, and as he did so he used his outstretched arm to guide Penny behind him, positioning himself between Penny and whatever it was he had heard. Quickly he switched his stick from his right hand to his left hand and then shoved it backwards, as if offering it to Penny. She took it hesitantly, unsure if she was reading him correctly, but he offered no resistance to her taking hold of it and in fact near dropped it into her hands as he then placed one hand on the pommel of his sword, the other on its scabbard.

Just then the sound of a bird came floating out of the darkness towards them.

Penny was no ornithologist, but to her untutored ear it sounded like some sort of owl as best as she could fathom. However, on hearing it Halladan visibly relaxed. His hands moved away from his sword and he turned back to Penny with an outstretched palm and a smile for his stick. She handed it to him, wondering whether to be relieved or alarmed by what had just occurred. It had all happened so fast she was left slightly bewildered.

"Um..?" was about the best she could manage before Halladan turned back to greet whoever it was that was heading their way.

"Out for a walk, Pen-ii?"

Penny was surprised to realise the approaching shadowy figure was Aragorn. He was wrapped up in a dark cloak entirely covering his finely brocaded tunic, and the hood was up, covering the Elendilmir so no hint of it glinted in the starlight.

"I do hope you are not distracting one of our guards from his duties," Aragorn continued as he drew near.

"Oh, no, I mean, Halladan said he could do both, I mean talk and guard… I did ask and he said… Did I do something wrong?"

The two men laughed.

"Not in the least, Pen-ii. I have absolute confidence in Halladan's abilities," Aragorn said with a smile, glancing at Halladan as he spoke and Halladan acknowledged the compliment with a bow of his head. Aragorn held out his hand and Halladan grasped his forearm.

"Well met. A quiet night, I take it, if you can afford to have company?" Aragorn grinned at Halladan.

"There are many of us on duty, as you know," Halladan replied. He used his stick to wave out to his right and away from the camp. "There are four ellyn stationed in a line there barely half a mile hence and countless others besides."

"Indeed." Aragorn nodded. "And you, Pen-ii? What brings you out into the dark? It is late indeed for you to be abroad. You will rue it tomorrow when you are nodding asleep in the saddle."

"Very likely. I could not sleep and was wandering mindlessly, and ran into Halladan. He was kind enough to keep me company. I am off to my tent now, though."

"Ah, good, good. Well, I need to have a word with Halladan, I think. It was him I was seeking out. I have just left the Dol Amroth encampment and it seemed quicker to come round than meander through all the camp."

Halladan had shot Aragorn a sharp glance at the mention that Aragorn had sought him out in particular to talk to him, though he said nothing.

"I had best leave you to it," Penny said.

"Let us walk you to the camp, Pen-ii," Aragorn insisted. "It would be most discourteous not to."

So the three walked to the nearest tent, which was not more than thirty yards away. They did so in silence. It was not uncomfortable as such, but Penny was very aware that whatever Aragorn wanted to say was not for her ears and that Halladan seemed slightly uneasy: the expression on his face made him look worried or nervous. Penny wondered if she dare hope Aragorn might be about to broach The Unmentionable Subject with Halladan at last.

When they reached the first guy rope of the first tent, Penny did a sort of bow-come-bob in Aragorn's direction, smiled at Halladan and bade them goodnight. As she hurried off towards her tent, she could just make out Aragorn's voice drifting over the night air.

"Since you seem to be in a walking mood, Halladan, and I have no desire to cause you to neglect your duties, let us wander back to your post. I have been meaning to speak to you …"

And the rest was lost into silence.

Penny glanced back to see the pair had already wandered off into the night and were now mere indistinct dark figures against the darker trees beyond and the starlit sky.

She saw Halladan only briefly at breakfast. She had been hard to rouse, Mireth having to near shake her awake, and still felt sluggish when she had turned up for the meal only to find most people had already eaten and gone to ready themselves for the day's travel ahead. Sam and Frodo were still there, of course, since the hobbits point blank refused to travel unless they could eat well and were always amongst the last to help pack things away. When some days previously Penny had pointed out that they had got used to travelling on near empty stomachs at various points on their adventures, Sam had cast her a baleful look and, with Frodo translating, insisted that had been just about one of the worst hardships he had had to endure.

"All the rest I could have borne, for all it was terrible, but to lie awake at night with my stomach rumbling and dreaming of potatoes and cabbages and one of the Gaffer's apple pies… It fair drove me near to madness, I'll not deny it."

Penny had sympathised and passed him a second helping of bread and jam which Sam had accepted most gratefully.

This morning, though, even the two hobbits were nearing the end of their meal.

"Ah, there you are at last!" Frodo smiled broadly. "We were hoping for some tea, but I fear it may be too late. Raz and Kali have already had to leave to get themselves ready." (The two would often come across to the elvish camp of a morning to share a pot of tea with Frodo, Sam and Penny; since the tea was slowly running short, they had rationed themselves to a pot a day and everyone agreed the breakfast cup was the most important of the day). "We shall have to leave it till this evening or tomorrow."

Penny shook her head. She felt horrible – still only half awake – and she was buggered if she was going to climb onto a horse feeling this awful without a cup of tea first.

"You overslept?" Naurdir had overheard and was already pouring some water in a small pot and placing it over the fire to boil. Penny nodded and muttered something about not sleeping till late and then not sleeping well.

"You are not sleeping well, either?" Sam asked once Frodo had translated. He sighed. "There is something in the air about the camp of late, and no mistake."

Glances were exchanged but no one said anything.

Arvain and Halladan soon finished their meals and left. Halladan had smiled at Penny from the opposite edge of the fire as she had sat down, and he made a point of walking past her to bid her good morning as he left. He seemed, well not 'less tense' so much as 'trying to make more of an effort'. Penny wondered if it had anything to do with her conversation with him, or Aragorn's. Whichever was the case, she was just glad he seemed to be more his usual self.

That day was spent passing through the wood that lay west of the Halifirien beacon. As had happened at all the other beacons so far on their journey, the guards on the Halifirien beacon had come out to watch them, bowing low to their King, holding their hands to the chests as they saw Faramir or other captains amongst the Gondorian nobles they knew, and hanging their heads quietly in respect as the wain carrying Theoden rumbled past.

Once past the beacon the travellers were in Rohan and Gondor behind them. It was a small thing, perhaps, given there was no checkpoint, no 'border' as such, but even so to know that her horse was tramping along on Rohirric rather than Gondorian earth lifted Penny's spirits a little – it put Gondor that much further behind her for the time being.

The change of scenery helped everyone, it seemed, or perhaps it was also the knowledge that they had finally left the home of the Pelennor and the horrors many had witnessed. Lunch seemed a much lighter affair than any mealtime had been for several days, and afterwards Penny was not the only one to wander a little while amongst the trees, and be glad to be able to do so.

That night Halladan actually stayed with the company for a little while but then removed himself to sit alone with his pipe as usual. Penny felt compelled, after their talk the previous night, to join him. She made no mention of anything they had discussed, indeed they hardly said a word to each other, but she sensed that he seemed moderately calmer than he had been, and she was glad to have company that was not trying to cheer her up or entertain her or ask her what was wrong.

At last she felt herself getting tired. As she got up and turned to leave, however, Halladan finally spoke for the first time in quite some while.

"I talked to Arvain."

Penny stared at him, unable to believe it. He glanced up at her.

"Do not look so surprised."

"Why should I not look surprised? You seemed so determined that you would do no such thing last night."

He said nothing for a while, then turned to look out into the dark once more.

"I owed it to him. As you said, if the situation were reversed…" He shrugged.

Penny had to suppress the urge to hug him. Apart from the fact that social niceties dictated it was probably not the 'done thing,' she suspected Halladan would be both alarmed and taken aback. She could just imagine him getting all prickly about it and asking her what in Arda she thought she was doing.

She smiled at him, desperate to know how it had gone, but knowing that really _would_ be none of her business. They had still been speaking to each other at breakfast, so it could not have gone that badly.

"Aragorn suggested it might be an idea."

Ah, so that was it. One thing for little old Penny to suggest it, but quite another for his king, his kinsmen, his father's best friend and a man of great wisdom and life experience to suggest it, apparently.

Penny tried not to feel slightly hard done by and took comfort in the fact that she and Aragorn had suggested the same thing.

She came to sit down beside Halladan once more.

"And?"

He looked sideways at her.

"None of my business, I know. I do not want to know the details. I just want to know if you think it made any difference."

He considered for a moment. "I am not used to relying on others, Pen-ii, or even acknowledging that I am unable to cope."

"You delegate in battle, do you not? You have to rely on others and indicate when you need more support?"

"Hardly the same thing, Pen-ii."

"Perhaps, but it means there are times when you know you cannot achieve whatever you need to achieve by yourself. This is one such time, that is all."

There was a soft snort as Halladan blew out of his nose and smiled at the same time.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." The smile broadened.

"What!"

"Nothing. You are right, that is all. Arvain and Aragorn told me much the same thing." He looked away and it was several moments before he spoke. "I had not realised how much Hirvell's death… Arvain is still grieving."

He was finding it hard to express and Penny, reading between the lines, could guess what he was saying. He was still talking though, almost to himself, as if he had momentarily forgotten Penny was there.

"He was so angry," he murmured. "He did not blame me but I had been the one shouting to Faelon to keep him… I had not wanted him to…"

His voice faded away. Penny waited to see if he would finish his sentence, but he did not.

"Halladan?"

There was no reply.

She looked at him. His gaze seemed fixed somewhere ahead of him. She tilted her head and leaned in a little closer to him.

"Halladan?"

Still no response, and as she looked closely at him she could see his eyes were unfocused and there was the faintest twitch in his face as he looked at Eru knew what.

She understood.

She quietly slipped her hand into his and sat there beside him, not moving or saying anything.

It was quite some time before he stirred, blinking and looking a little dazed, but mostly haggard and distressed if not on the verge of tears. He did not seem to realise Penny had hold of his hand, or not until she gave it a gentle squeeze at which point he looked down at their joined hands with bewilderment and then up at her his mouth slightly agape. She could see the tears in his eyes. She smiled gently, drawing her hand out of his and patting the back of his hand just once.

"Can I leave you safely enough now?" she asked quietly. "Are you recovered?"

He nodded slowly, still looking somewhat dazed and upset, but clearly struggling manfully to keep it all in.

"Good. I am sure you wish to be alone, and I do not want to intrude." She smiled once more and got to her feet. "Good night." Then she paused before she added, "May Elbereth protect you and Eru heal you, Halladan."

She turned to leave but felt him suddenly take hold of her hand once more. She turned back to him. He was not looking at her.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You are most welcome, Halladan."

Then she turned once more and headed off, leaving Halladan sitting stock still for several moments before his head sank to his knees and his shoulders began to shake.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

It has been noted that 'Corunir' and 'Curunir' (the latter being Saruman's name in Sindarin) are similar to each other. I should point out that 'coru-' and 'curu-' have completely different meanings: one means 'cunning' and the other means 'skill'. The suffix '-nir' simply means 'man'. I chose Corunir's name quite deliberately as being the nearest thing I could fathom that I knew to be good Sindarin as well as giving some indication to his nature. For all Saruman was indeed cunning, his name was given to him by the elves prior to his fall into darkness, and it in fact matches his Maia name (Curumo – also meaning, it is thought, 'skilled one') so 'curu'/skill does not carry the negative meaning that could be implied by 'cunning'.

I say 'the Elendilmir' since that is what would have been called and how Tolkien refers to it in ROTK, but it is worth mentioning that it is, of course, not the original (as I think I have said before in an author's note not too long ago) and so not _the_ Elendilmir but a copy. The original was lost when Isildur was killed since he was wearing it at the time (see Unfinished Tales).


	39. The Final Countdown

**Chapter 39** – _"The Final Countdown"_

If Penny had been concerned that Halladan might feel awkward with her at breakfast the following morning, she need not have worried. Nor did it seem like he was trying to pretend nothing had happened, which was perhaps nearly as much of a pleasant surprise. Rather the soft smile he threw in her direction as he caught sight of her seemed warm and friendly, and there was a moment when he held her gaze for a few seconds while his smile broadened a little, which she interpreted as gratitude for her behaviour with him the previous evening.

At least Penny felt reassured that he did not think she had intruded or crossed a line and that they were still friends. She was pleased. She smiled back.

Over the next day or two, Arvain and Halladan would often spend long hours away from the general company. No sooner were the chores done to set up the camp and the meal finished than the two of them headed off together to talk in privacy, avoiding the usual gossiping chatter or songs and telling of tales.

While the mood amongst the mortals had changed somewhat since they had arrived in Rohan after the days of shared, quiet unburdening, it was still relatively sombre (this was a funeral procession, after all). The atmosphere was nowhere near as dark and brooding as it had been, but there was still the real possibility of certain topics being occasionally discussed, and now that Halladan had finally admitted to Arvain what he was going through, his brother could be all the more forceful in trying to protect Halladan from the worst of it. Thus, even when they were in the general fray, the two would sit at some remove from the others, while actively seeking out the company of elves and Dunedain for the most part.

Arvain became like Halladan's shadow, near constantly by his side. He took it upon himself to fend off those who tried to engage his brother in conversation about certain sensitive subjects. It was never an elf or Dunadan who was the culprit, but invariably a soldier who knew them vaguely from the War or else had been recently introduced. The man might throw a question Halladan's way, or start up on some tale or other, and Arvain would immediately be the one to answer him in his brother's stead, or cut the man short with a tale of his own about something entirely different. It was not long before Faelon also began to act in a similar manner.

It was always subtly done, but even so the first few times it happened, Halladan opened his mouth to protest and even stormed away on one occasion, his face dark with irritation. Arvain had followed him, grabbing him firmly by the arm and talking animatedly, if in hushed tones. Halladan had clearly found whatever was said uncomfortable listening, but had nodded stiffly as if reluctantly admitting Arvain was right.

After that, there were no more objections from Halladan.

The times when they were away from the general hubbub, however, Penny was aware how much she missed their company.

It was not that she did not have people around her to keep her busy and entertained or that many of those were not firm friends whose company she enjoyed. The stories and ballads continued as usual, Erestor would occasionally badger Penny into conversing in Westron for a half hour or so (which she would struggle with and often left her with a headache at the end of it), and there was always someone with a cup of wine and a quip or two to listen to, Lindir in particular. She could hardly complain she was bored.

Even so, she felt as if she had made some sort of connection with the brothers. Perhaps in large part because she now knew of their commitment to her as guardians, perhaps because they were mortal and understood her more than an elf at times, but whatever the reason she regretted not seeing them as much as she would have liked. That said, she was just glad they were talking at last, or that Halladan was talking at least, and did not begrudge them for one moment. She only hoped it was helping and, judging from the slight change already seen in Halladan, she assumed it was doing so. He already seemed, if not better, then a little more at ease in himself. He was still quiet and not terribly talkative, but he was not actively seeking out brooding solitude anymore.

Penny did wonder whether Halladan had told his brother about what she knew. Even if he had, she did not know how much he would tell Arvain. Would he tell him about what had happened on the Pelennor, for example? Somehow she doubted it. The few times she was with them at mealtimes, however, there was no reference to it at all. Indeed it was not until two days after Penny had sat with Halladan as he had his flashback, that she had her answer.

It was an hour or so after supper, the usual crowd was round the main elvish campfire, and Penny was on her way to fetch a cup of wine for herself and Mireth. Arvain was standing between two tents, slightly back from the main group of people, and as Penny passed by him he called her name.

She looked quizzically at him. He jerked his head, indicating she should join him and she did so.

"I just wanted to say… thank you," he said quietly when she had reached him.

Her brow furrowed even more deeply.

"Halladan told me you had been bullying him a little, pressing him to talk to me. I want to thank you."

She smiled gently.

"Oh, it was nothing. Truly. I merely told him what my honest opinion was. I could just as easily have been wrong as I was right. I am glad he has spoken to you, though. For both your sakes."

Arvain nodded and as he did so, Penny noticed the muscles in his jaw were tight.

She could well imagine it had been an emotional few days for him as much as for Halladan. There was so much she wanted to ask him about his discussions with Halladan and yet, for all this young man was only two or three years her senior and was now her guardian, she felt it was possibly none of her business. This was something between him and his brother alone.

"It has helped," he said, as if in response to her unspoken question. "I insisted he be… frank with me." Then he corrected himself. "No, Aragorn and Faelon insisted. I am grateful to them both also."

His voice sounded strained, though. Penny gently laid a hand on his forearm.

"You needed this from him, as much as he needed to share what he has been trying to deal with by himself all this time."

Arvain nodded once more, seemingly unable to speak for a moment.

Given the emotion she could see was surging through him, as well as Halladan's confession to her two days previously that he had finally learned how angry Arvain had been at the manner in which he had been treated over Hirvell's death, Penny had little doubt that frank words had been exchanged between the two, possibly even ending with Halladan explaining in no uncertain terms what he had tried to protect his baby brother from knowing all this time.

She hesitated for all of a heartbeat and then hugged Arvain impulsively. Decorum be damned.

When she pulled back from him she could see he was smiling gratefully. She returned his smile and, since she could think of nothing more to say that she had not already expressed in the hug, she turned to leave. Instead she was stayed by the gentle hold of Arvain's hand on her wrist. She looked back at him.

"I am sorry you never met him."

Okay, stuff like that was going to make her cry.

"So am I, Arvain. If his father and brothers were anything to judge him by then I know he must have been a good and noble man."

He smiled sadly. They said nothing for a moment.

"Come," she said at last. "I was about to get some wine for Mireth and myself. Will you join us?"

"But of course. I thank you kindly."

And his smile broadened.

The following night Penny herself became co-opted as a member of 'The Halladan Protection Squad'. Halladan and Arvain were, for once, spending some time round the main fire enjoying a pitcher of ale with Faelon. Penny was seated nearby with a group that included some of the ladies-in-waiting, various ellyn, Mireth and Eleniel.

Not too long after the 'post-meal' socialising had begun, Prince Imrahil arrived, intending to spend the evening in the company of the elves. He brought several lords of Dol Amroth with him.

Within minutes of their arrival, one of the lords of Dol Amroth spotted Arvain and made his way over to him. He had been introduced to Arvain by his cousin (a noble of Minas Tirith) several days previously and was now making a point of coming to greet the young Dunadan who, of course, felt duty bound to then introduce the man to Halladan and Faelon. They in turn naturally felt they had little choice but insist the man join them in a tankard of ale which Arvain promptly went to fetch.

Soon enough, Penny found she was only half-listening to Rhimlath relating a detailed history of elvish blade-smithing in the Second Age at great length (which had come about as a consequence of one of the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting being foolish enough to mention that her cousin was one of the best smithies in Gondor within Rhimlath's earshot). Instead her attention was distracted by what was going on only a few feet away.

The man from Dol Amroth was talking fairly animatedly, loudly enough that Penny could hear him, but also, given he was an educated noble, in Sindarin so she could understand him even if his accent was rather different from that of someone from Minas Tirith. It seemed he had no sooner sat down and been presented with his ale than he had launched into a long account of his experiences in the War, about how hard it had been to be part of the siege of Minas Tirith knowing his home was possibly under attack at the same time and how grateful he was for all that the Dunedain had done as part of the army that had routed the would-be attack on Lebennin and its environs.

However, he did not seem to understand that Halladan's reticence was a sign that he did not wish to participate in the conversation. Rather, the man seemed to be going out of his way to try and include Halladan (probably precisely because he was the only one of the three Dunedain who seemed to be refusing to contribute to the conversation), and while it was Arvain who was answering every question directed at his brother and Faelon was trying to change the subject, the man seemed determined to pursue it.

"Pardon me…"

The four men looked up. Penny had stood and crossed over to them. She now tried her most charming smile on the man.

"Forgive me for interrupting, but I could not help overhearing. Am I to understand you come from Dol Amroth?"

The stranger nodded.

"You actually live inside the city itself?"

"Yes. Born and raised there."

"Oh, but how wonderful! Could I trouble you…? I do not mean to interrupt, forgive me," she glanced at the other three who were both surprised and not a little amused by how convincingly apologetic she seemed, "but would you mind telling me a little about the city? I have never been there, and I have heard several of the men from there telling such wonderful stories of the place while we have travelled, but I would dearly love to have someone describe it to me in detail."

Somewhere nearby Lindir told Eleniel slightly too loudly that he clearly must have imagined the moment when Penny had been given chapter and verse on Dol Amroth only the other day. Eleniel ignored him and Celebdor kicked him.

"I hear tell it is a very beautiful city," Penny was saying, "but I find it hard to believe it could be more beautiful than Minas Tirith."

"Oh, it is, I can assure you!" the man replied with some feeling.

"Surely not!"

The man, sensing a challenge, and only too happy to be given an opportunity to boast about his native city, invited Penny to sit down with them while he described in minute detail the glories of his city. Faelon and Arvain exchanged a slightly relieved look with each other while also stifling chuckles. Halladan said nothing, merely kept his gaze and his head lowered, holding his tankard in one hand. There was a smile on his face, though.

Some time later the man was called away by his cousin who said Prince Imrahil was asking for him. He apologised, bowed his head in Penny's direction and thanked her for taking such an interest in his home.

"If you ever visit our fair city, you must be sure to call upon my wife and me. We would be most honoured of your company. You would be most welcome."

As he made his way towards the far side of the gathering where Imrahil and Aragorn were seated together, there was a moment of silence amongst the others.

"Well," said Arvain at last, "I think you now know more about Dol Amroth than you could have ever have wished to learn, Pen-ii."

"I found it most interesting," Penny insisted.

"For the first ten minutes, perhaps," Faelon muttered.

"Indeed," Arvain replied, with a grin. "I now know enough that I am not sure I would ever need to visit the city itself."

"Thank you, Pen-ii."

Halladan's voice was quiet, but it cut across the tail end of his brother's words nonetheless. He was not looking at her.

"You are very welcome, Halladan." She threw him a smile and caught his eye as he glanced up at her. He smiled back.

"Did Pen-ii just get a thank you, Faelon?" Arvain's tone was one of mock astonishment and there was a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I do believe she did, Arvain, yes."

"And after all that we did before she arrived!"

"You know I am grateful for all that you do, Arvain," Halladan said, perhaps even more quietly than before. Penny suddenly felt slightly awkward being there.

"Forgive me, brother," Arvain's tone was instantly serious and apologetic. "I did not mean… I was only…"

"Pen-ii," Faelon interrupted, "did I ever tell you the story of when Halbarad and I were boys and met an orc in the woods?"

"No." Penny grinned. She was grateful for the distraction as well as to hear something about Halbarad and Faelon's youth. Faelon's 'family stories' were always entertaining. "I would love to hear it."

There was a groan from Halladan and Arvain. She glanced at them, curious.

"Oh, ignore them," Faelon said, flapping his hand dismissively in their direction.

"We have heard this story more times than we would care to guess at," Halladan explained.

"Terribly proud of themselves about it all," Arvain continued with a slight shake of the head. "Never let anyone forget it."

"And with good reason!" Faleon retorted, his chest swelling slightly with pride. "I would like to have seen you fare as well at your age."

"There was that time with the dog!"

Halladan joined Faelon's laughter.

"It was a vicious dog!" Arvain insisted.

"It was no bigger than a ferret," Halladan whispered conspiratorially to Penny, though easily loud enough that Arvain could hear.

"It was not!"

"Arvain, you were small and it was understandable that you were alarmed by a slightly over-exuberant ratter, but…"

"'_Slightly over-exuberant'?_" Arvain seemed outraged.

"But," Faelon repeated firmly, "you cannot claim it to be anything like coming face to face with a very annoyed orc when you barely reach its hip."

Arvain looked determined to argue the point, but eventually had to admit Faelon was right, though he did so extremely begrudgingly.

Penny grinned and laughed with the other two. Ah, this is what she had missed the last few nights, she decided, as Faelon went on to tell how two small boys armed only with a hunting dagger, a slingshot and several sharp stones had taken down their first ever orc.

Later that evening, as she excused herself from the company when it was getting late, Penny heard her name and turned to find Gandalf was wandering over to her.

"Are you on your way to your tent? Ah, good, then I shall join you if I may. I am heading in that direction as it is."

He waited until they were a fair way from the company before he spoke again.

"I am glad Halladan is finally accepting help from others," he said, though none too loudly and yet in a suitably off-hand if not positively breezy manner. "We were beginning to get concerned, as were you, I suspect."

Penny had not expected this and was not sure what to say, or even if to respond at all. Gandalf almost sounded as though he was speaking rhetorically, however, and carried on without waiting for an answer from her one way or the other.

"You have got close to him and his brother in the short time you have known them. I am glad. For their father's sake, since I know it was what he wanted, but also I think it has been of great benefit for you to have some close mortal company that understands you better than perhaps the people of Gondor or Rohan ever might." He glanced at her. "I think you have been good for them in some ways as well."

"Me?"

There was the hint of a smile through his beard.

"Are you telling me you had no hand in Halladan finally becoming more honest with himself and more open with those closest to him about what has been troubling him so?"

"Um…"

"He was quite frank with King Elessar, Pen-ii, when they spoke. Halladan credited you with, if not forcing his hand, then at least making him realise both the seriousness of the situation and that he had little choice but to unburden himself, that he could not continue to struggle alone."

"It was the King's words that tipped the balance, I think."

"Perhaps. And perhaps not." He paused for a few moments before continuing. "Of course," he said slowly, "Halladan did not explain precisely how it came to pass that you were bold enough to broach the subject with him in the first place, nor why he even allowed you to do so."

There was something about the keen look in Gandalf's eye that made Penny suspect that he either knew exactly what had occurred, or had guessed at it.

She quickly dropped her gaze and said nothing.

Gandalf nodded, more to himself than to her it seemed.

"I shall not press you," he said, even more quietly than before, "but I can imagine he was angry at himself when it occurred, was he not? And for several different reasons."

It took all Penny's self-control not to falter in her step and then after the initial moment of shock passed she felt flustered. If she confirmed what Gandalf clearly seemed to know, she would break Halladan's trust. It was for Halladan to tell them about what had occurred if he so chose, not her. Gandalf, however, again did not give her the chance to respond, for which she was grateful.

"And you, being the Pen-ii we have come to know so well, no doubt would not let it pass. Like a dog with a bone you worried at him until he finally gave in, I suspect. Good for you, Pen-ii. Good for you. I am surprised you did not tell anyone, however, or ask for advice. Any one of us could have helped him, as I know you know. But then, given he most likely swore you to silence, determined as he was to try and cope by himself, it is understandable perhaps. You are to be commended, Pen-ii, both for your determination as well as your loyalty to him."

Penny could feel herself flushing with awkwardness as well as a little pleasure at the praise he was giving her. She was still wondering if she should deny it all, though; after all her silence was as good as confirmation of his suspicions.

"Of course, I could be entirely wrong in my musings," Gandalf continued, but the glance he threw her as he said this told her he knew perfectly well he was nothing of the sort, "I do not expect you to confirm or deny anything, since that might well compromise whatever promise you have made to Halladan. I just thought that if I was correct you might like to hear my opinion on the matter. If I am incorrect, then please forgive me and ignore everything I have just said."

Again that smile and the knowing look…

The wily old bird.

"However, there is something else I need to discuss with you, if I may."

They had long since passed Penny's tent by this point and had now reached the outer edge of the elvish section of the encampment. Gandalf slowly strolled out into the darkness beyond the last tent and stood for a moment looking up at the night sky. For a minute or so the moon was obscured by clouds, but even as Penny stood silently by his side, waiting for him to continue, the clouds moved and the moon, bright if not full, revealed itself and the stars became visible. Something about Gandalf seemed to, if not exactly glimmer, then certainly light up a little, not unlike an elf in starlight. The ring on his finger, on the hand that bore his staff, gleamed and shone in a way that, in Penny's opinion, no stone should be able to do, but that was rings of power for you, she assumed.

"Tell me, have you been avoiding Lord Elrond deliberately?"

The question came completely out of nowhere, taking her totally by surprise. This, she knew, was most certainly not a rhetorical question.

"Er… no. No, of course not. Well, I mean, um… no."

She did not sound nearly as certain as she would have liked.

She had _not_ been avoiding Elrond, she told herself, it was just that it seemed so awkward to try and pretend like nothing had happened when she still felt sick to her stomach every time she thought about how she had behaved and what she had said to him. That she was reminded of exactly that every time she saw him meant that she had, naturally enough, tried not to see him if she could possibly help it. So, no, she had not been _avoiding_ him exactly… except that she had, of course.

"I have not said anything before now, nor has Lord Elrond, because we understand that you perhaps feel a little… uncomfortable after what occurred. I would suggest that you talk to him, however."

She felt that knot of anxiety in her stomach explode into life, and as it did so, Gandalf turned to her suddenly, almost as if he himself had sensed it at the same moment.

"Do you fear him, Pen-ii? Have you forgotten what and who he is? I thought you knew us all so well, even before you met us."

"No, it is not that!" Was that how it appeared? Ai, how did she manage to make such a damn hash of everything? "I just… It is only that…" She hung her head. "I feel so dreadful about how I behaved. I know in my head that when he said it was finished he meant it, and yet my heart… I cannot but help suspect that his opinion of me is changed forever. I bitterly regret what I said and did. If I could go back and change it, I would."

Gandalf laid a hand on her cheek, and when she looked up at him, she could see his face was not stern, his expression kind.

"He understands better than you think. He is saddened that you will not forgive yourself when he has already forgiven you long ago."

"I know it may seem like I do not take him at his word. It is not that…"

"Except that is precisely what it is, Pen-ii, whether you mean it or no. When Lord Elrond says a thing, he means it. He is, above all things, a kind, gentle and wise elf of thousands of years' learning. Trust his wisdom, and remember his kindness. If he has been a little harder with you than he otherwise might on occasion, it is only because up till now he has felt himself to be responsible for you, your guardian in some ways. I know he told you all this. You were under his patronage, in his care. Your behaviour reflected on him, but more than that he made himself responsible for your education in the ways of this world. You have grown and changed so much. It is almost as if you were a different person from that outspoken, raging female that Halbarad brought to Elrond's door. Elrond is proud and impressed by the changes you have made, as are all of us, at the effort it has taken you to attempt to conform to our ways, to not run wild. It shows you have intelligence and character, that you had both an understanding of your situation and respect for all of us that you were willing to listen and willing to change. I do not think it is the fact that the fiery old Pen-ii came back that saddened him (for that will always be a part of your character, after all). No, it is more that you spoke without thinking, reacted without finding out the full story. More than that, that you reacted without stopping to consider what you knew of Elrond's character."

"Do you think I do not know all this?" Her voice was quiet, and if it sounded bitter it was directed at herself, not Gandalf.

"He does not blame you for it, Pen-ii. He understands that you reacted out of the strength of feeling you have for Halbarad, from the close bond of friendship you formed with him and with his kin in their turn. In some way he commends you for holding Halbarad in such high esteem, however misplaced your reaction."

"He was disappointed in me, Gandalf," and she could not look at him as she said it. "That is what hurt me most. Nor do I blame him in the least. He had every right to be disappointed. But how can I be as I was before in his company after that?"

"Do you think you are the only one to have disappointed him in his long life? Do you think his sons or daughter never misbehaved in their youth? Or no resident of Imladris ever did anything foolish in their time? Dear me, Pen-ii, have you been such a good friend of Lindir these past months and yet not understood his nature is one that has driven Elrond to distraction before now, for all that he is a close friend of Elrond's, one whom Elrond loves dearly?" He was chuckling as he spoke. "That incident of Glorfindel's green hair was quite something, I can assure you."

"Ah, but Lindir denies all responsibility for that, Gandalf."

Gandalf gave her what could only be described as 'a look' from underneath his bushy eyebrows.

"You and I both know that Lindir's denials in such matters are worth less than nothing. He had a hand in it, of that I and most others are certain."

Penny's grin matched his, but then her expression faltered.

"Even so, Gandalf. A prank is not the same as insulting the Lord of Imladris himself."

"Perhaps not, but there have also been moments when some have disagreed with him over a matter or been rather… frank in their opinions. Franker than they might have been otherwise due to anger or perhaps even a little over-indulgence in their cups."

Penny looked astonished.

"No, I will not give you details. Such matters should be left untouched once they have been resolved. Elves may not be as hasty or quick to strong emotions as mortals, perhaps, wiser and better able to restrain themselves, indeed, but even they still have their moments. You know their history, Pen-ii, you know what they can be capable of at their lowest."

Penny blinked. That was true.

"Not that I am for a moment suggesting that of Elrond or any in Imladris, I hasten to add. I make a general point only."

Penny nodded. "Of course. I understand."

"All I am saying is that, for all your outburst was not to be condoned and crossed a line that should not have been crossed, it is not the end of your friendship with Lord Elrond. He wants you to allow yourself to accept what he said to you in Minas Tirith. He is waiting for the moment when you feel you can start to treat him as you always used to. He has not spoken to you directly since he felt you should come to this in your own time. I agreed, and would not speak to you now except that I suspect this may be affecting your decision regarding where you will stay. No, no, do not interrupt. It has filtered through to me that you are not yourself, that you are having disturbed sleep. It is a momentous decision and I suspect it is distressing you greatly to have to make it. So make your peace with Elrond, Pen-ii. Reassure yourself that, for all you crossed the bounds, no true harm has been done. If you let this affect your decision, if Lord Elrond thought for one moment you would refuse his hospitality simply because you feared he had not meant what he said to you, then I suspect he truly would be angry. Angry and not a little hurt. You would not want that, would you? No, of course not. Of course, if you choose to stay in Gondor because that is what you truly wish, then that is another matter entirely."

Penny opened her mouth to say something, but could not find the words.

"Well, then, that is settled. Let me walk you back to your tent. It is late and there is a chill in the air now that the sky has cleared. Come."

And so saying he led a slightly bewildered Penny back to her tent.

When they reached it, Mireth was already inside with one or two ellith. As Gandalf bade Penny goodnight he leant down and spoke quietly to her.

"Think on what I have said to you, Pen-ii. We do not have much further to travel and all too soon you will be forced to decide. Take your chance while there is time. We are here to help you and advise you. If you need to discuss this, then do so. Do not feel shy or reticent. Yes, I walk in the company of kings, but I am still the old man you hugged so warmly when I left Imladris, am I not?" He smiled.

"You are no old man, Gandalf."

The enormous eyebrows raised and dropped for a moment and he chuckled. Then he bade her goodnight once more and wandered off back to the campfire.

Penny did a lot of thinking that night, lying on her bedroll, staring at the ceiling of her tent instead of sleeping. Mireth asked if anything was amiss, and for the first time in a long time it was not an out-and-out lie when Penny said 'no' and gave her friend a smile.

She knew Gandalf was right, of course. She could not carry on in this fashion, and if he and Elrond had noticed her behaviour had changed towards him, then no doubt others had also, and that would never do. She had no desire to have raked up that which Elrond had been so gracious to either cover over or insist no one referred to if he had told them about it.

So it was that the next evening she made a point of joining the ladies-in-waiting when Arwen came to sit with her father, Erestor and Glorfindel. They all welcomed Penny gladly, Elrond in particular, and his smile seemed genuinely warm. There was even a point while everyone's attention was focused on a singer from Lothlorien that Elrond leaned over and murmured quietly in Penny's ear how glad he was that she had joined them.

Penny thought of those few times she had caught his eye in the past week or so and felt that she had picked up some attitude from him towards her. She now suspected she had imagined it all, or read things that were not there, solely due to her own anxiety and fears. She felt such an idiot. What must he think of her?

She glanced sideways at him and noticed he was watching her, as if assessing her reaction to him, perhaps even guessing near to what was going through her mind. It looked as if he was about to say something to her when a Gondorian noble appeared at his shoulder, saying King Elessar was asking for him.

Elrond said he would be there presently and stood to follow the man, but not before looking back in Penny's direction and inclining his head slightly, the hint of a smile on his lips and round his eyes.

Penny smiled back and then let her gaze drop, out of shyness or something like it.

At that moment, however, the singer finished his song and there was a ripple of applause and murmured thanks. When Penny turned back round, Elrond had left, already crossing over to the far side of the fire where Aragorn and Gandalf were seated with Imrahil and Faramir.

Penny felt, if not exactly instantly relieved or less burdened, then at least a little less awkward in his presence from that point on. There was little opportunity to talk to him in the days that followed, however, since it seemed he was never away from company, especially that of his children and parents-in-law. The family unit seemed near indivisible much of the time, and perhaps with good reason.

At the same time as the gloom had lifted from the mortal encampments, an imperceptible change seemed to have slowly come over the elvish one. It was barely noticeable at first, indeed only became so after a few days' travel into Rohan. Even then it was still faint, and no doubt many amongst the mortals did not notice at all unless they knew the elves well, but it was there nonetheless. Not only that, but as the days passed by and they got nearer to the Meduseld, it increased, almost imperceptibly, day by day.

At first Penny assumed the mood from the men in the camp, which had been so very dark, oppressive and brooding, had finally affected even the elves in some way – memories of their own losses or brushes with evil, horror and death crowding in on them. However, once it was clear that the mood amongst the mortals was no longer nearly as desperate as it had been and yet the elves continued to lack their usual levity, she knew it had to have some other cause.

If she had not already guessed what that cause was, it was made blindingly obvious to Penny when, four days into Rohan, Arwen rode with the elves for the first time since they had left Minas Tirith and then continued to travel with them every day until they reached the Edoras.

No, this was no 'knock-on effect' of the suffering mortals. What was affecting the elvish camp was an entirely elvish dilemma.

Arwen had kin and close friends in both Imladris and Lothlorien and had spent extended periods of her life in both places, thus every elf travelling with them knew Arwen well and had likely known her all her life.

Yet, once the elves left Rohan, most would never see Arwen again.

The effect that this nearing separation was having on the elves was like a faintly discernible, gentle undercurrent, though of what it was hard to say precisely. There was no definable sense of sorrow so much as a lack of the usual joyfulness that the elvish camp was always full of even in its most subdued moments. There was little laughter, and any singing seemed quiet and often full of sadness. Several sang of love, and while they never sang of love lost or love unrequited, there was always a sacrifice involved in the story, or at the very least the tune itself was slow, haunting and moving.

One or two even sang of Luthien, unsurprisingly. It had to be said they sang not only of how she had been lost to the immortals, but also of how she had won the love of a great man, how their love had burned bright and true, how they had been blessed by the Valar themselves and how a great and noble line had come from them both.

No one begrudged Luthien her choice.

So too it seemed with Arwen. Some time before, the elves had learnt what her choice would be and come to accept it as best they might. They were happy she had found a love so strong and deep, for all they would grieve and miss her dreadfully.

It was those mixed emotions that were running through the camp, and growing with every step they took closer to their journey's end.

"You have to remember, Pen-ii," Faelon said quietly one night when they were about three days' ride from Edoras, "that from the moment each of Lord Elrond's children were born, he and Lady Celebrían knew the choice that lay ahead of each of them. They always knew it might come to this, even without any foresight they may have had regarding Arwen in particular."

He, Arvain, Halladan and several other Dunedain were sitting round a small fire of their own, at one remove from the elves' fires. Penny was with them, along with several of Arwen's ladies-in-waiting.

It was not that Penny felt unwelcome in the elvish camp, just that the atmosphere had become such that she felt like she was intruding on something intensely personal and private. No one had said anything to her or given her any indication that she was not welcome, far from it, but even the ladies-in-waiting seemed to sense it also since they gratefully accepted Penny's suggestion that they join her when she had headed over to sit with the Dunedain.

It had to be noted that for the next few days till they arrived at Edoras Aragorn would spend much of his time with his kinsmen also, as well as Eomer, Faramir and Imrahil. He was clearly giving Arwen time with her kin alone for those last few days together. Even Legolas seemed at one remove, in part because he had Gimli as a companion a lot of the time, but also because he was the only elf there not so hugely emotionally involved, which was not to say he remained wholly unaffected, merely not nearly as affected as everyone else. The hobbits too became regulars at the Dunedain fire.

No one really discussed the reasons why they had migrated away from elvish company, nor indeed were they avoiding the elves completely. They often spent time with them, had meals with them, and stayed to listen to some of the songs and tales afterwards, and indeed there were often a few elves seated with them around the Dunadain fire most evenings. Even so in those last few days before they arrived at Edoras, it seemed those who might otherwise have been intermingling with the elves for the entire night through felt it best to give them their space, their last precious moments with one who was held in high esteem amongst them all, dearly loved, cherished and a beauty the like of which had not been seen in generations. It just felt instinctively like the right thing to do.

It was then that Penny was truly grateful to have the Dunedain with her and in particular to have the close companionship of Halladan and Arvain. To have been left solely in the company of half a dozen ladies of Gondor, even if they were nothing like the awful Sidhwen, would have driven her to distraction. To be able to spend her evenings in the company of her two guardians, who really had become something akin to close friends or brothers to her, was a great relief. Evenings in the tent with Mireth and the others had become a strange affair, and it was the first time in a very long time that Penny had felt if not unwelcome in elvish company then certainly at one remove, an outside observer. Mireth did her best to be as bright and talkative as ever, but even Penny could see she was having to make an effort to be so. Far better, then, that Penny spend as much time as possible with Halladan and the rest, rather than make Mireth feel obliged to do something she was probably not in the mood for. Besides which, Penny felt Mireth would prefer to be in Celebdor's company for these few days – the comforting presence of the one she loved.

The one positive thing that could be said was that the moment they had crossed the border, the Rohirrim seemed to be in better spirits once they were on familiar home ground. It had possibly helped, in large part, to lift the cloud of gloom over the mortal parts of the camp.

As the huge train had travelled west, following the line of the mountains, several times families from farmsteads and cottages had come and greeted them, one or two amongst them recognising men riding in the eored and calling out to them.

Once the funeral party had crossed the border, some subtle changes occurred in terms of a 'shift of power', as it were. It was now the Rohirrim in charge of directing where to set up camp, who took what watch and where those on guard duty would be stationed. In Gondor, while such decisions had been made to some extent by mutual agreement, there was a sense that the final say would lie with Aragorn or one of his deputies (most likely Faramir or Imrahil as the most senior of his lieutenants). Now it was the other way around – it was Eomer whose final word was sought, and those on guard duty deferred to Elfhelm and Erkenbrand's directions. The travellers from Gondor were now the guests of Rohan, not the other way around.

One evening, only a few day's ride from Edoras, a shy looking woman arrived at the camp, two young girls in tow, asking for the king. The first guard she encountered on the edge of the encampment was a Gondorian, so he unthinkingly directed her to be taken to Aragorn, forgetting, of course, that now they were in Rohan any locals would mean Eomer by such a term. She seemed somewhat bewildered at being presented to a man who was clearly no Rohirrim with his dark hair and grey eyes.

Fortunately Eomer was nearby and the confusion quickly passed. She bowed low to him, even though she was a good ten years his senior, and pushed the eldest child forward (who was no more than eight or so) who presented him with a basket of cakes. They were made from the last of her flour, the woman explained, but she could not let him and 'the old king now passed away' pass by her land without giving him homage.

Eomer would have refused to accept them were it not that it would have seemed insulting and ungracious. Instead he thanked the lady, and, on hearing she owned the nearby fields, asked for her name and that of her husband. He recognised her husband's name immediately as one of those who had been killed at Helm's Deep. He could have sworn the man had had four children, though, and here this woman only had two girls with her. The eldest was at home looking after the toddler, the woman explained.

The woman seemed a little haggard and tired. When Eomer asked her how she fared she tried to put a brave face on it, but at his insistence she was forced to admit it was only her and a cousin who lived some miles away who were able to tend the land now that she was a war widow.

"We manage," she insisted, with a forced smile, but it was clear to all there that that was far from the truth.

No sooner had she left than Eomer spoke to Erkenbrand and Elfhelm, asking them to fetch someone within the eored who perhaps had known her husband well and might therefore know where her house might be found.

It was soon and easily done.

Eomer had two of his men ride out there later that night with a third horse laden with supplies and a bag of gold coins. Eomer had known better than to attempt to give her money at the camp – she would have only refused it.

His men also brought an offer from the king to hire some of her land from her on a regular basis and, if it would be acceptable, for him to position a caretaker to live on the land to help her tend to it – a man to protect the land and the family that owned it if need be.

The woman accepted gratefully, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face.

It was a strange party that finally crossed the river and headed towards the valley, the Meduseld's roof gleaming in the morning sun far ahead of them. They were numerous, tall and noble: the best and greatest of their Age and time. Among them rode kings, noble elves, a maia and the eight surviving members of the Fellowship, Ringbearers, Balrog-slayers, people about whom prophesies were told and songs were sung, each and every one (bar Penny, basically) a member of a good and noble race (albeit some were more noble than others, but that was not the point).

And yet…

As they had neared Edoras, the reason for their journey had begun to impress itself upon the Rohirrim more and more. Many songs were sung late into the night of Rohirric tales of heroism and daring, of kings and of Theoden in particular. The elves were still increasingly quiet and reserved, the Dunedain were, as always, content to socialise little and say less, and it all had a sobering effect on everyone else.

They ended the journey much as they had started it: in sombre sobriety, the great wain creaking its way near the head of the long train, the chatter quiet and sporadic, the few songs slow and filled with sorrow. As they neared the city itself, as crowds of silent Rohirrim began to line the way, many weeping and even the children stilled and quiet as the funeral bier rolled past them, the songs were entirely Rohirric ones, the eored singing as one, with the occasional blowing of horns every now and then.

At long last they stopped on the north side of the city, a little further away from the funeral mounds of the kings than where the elves had set up camp before.

Eomer and the eored did not dismount. Instead they waited for the rest to join them as the long snaking train wound its way through the tall, green grass of Rohan. Then the wain holding Theoden was taken in full pomp and honour, riders surrounding him, up into the city. Leading this, his last journey into his native city, were two kings, the greatest elves in Middle-earth, a Maia, and every remaining member of the Fellowship (thus representing between them the dwarves, the elves of Mirkwood and the Shire).

And perhaps the straightest in his place of them all was one who had not wavered once in his duty, who had stood by his king for at least an hour or more every night while they had journeyed, and ridden beside him every day.

As the horns sounded one long mournful note and the wain began to move slowly up the hill and past the mounds of the other fallen kings of Rohan, Merry adjusted his tunic, swallowed, and put on a determined air as he performed his duty by Theoden King one last time.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Firstly, my sincere and abject apologies for the length of time this chapter has taken to appear. Those who keep half an eye on my LJ will know it was a combination of factors, most of it RL and limited computer time, that conspired against me. I think it's only fair to presume this is a situation likely to continue for the foreseeable future. Thus assume a month between chapters (minimum) from now on, and if I get them out faster then consider that an unexpected bonus. I do write when I can and I post as soon as a chapter is ready. Sometimes things happen that mean I can rattle off a chapter in a fortnight or less, more recently RL has meant that's going to be increasingly unlikely, I am afraid.

I should probably also apologise for the chapter title. Not my most favourite song in the world, indeed I remember when it was in the charts for ages and a day and it struck me then as one of the most irritating songs in the world since it refused to leave your head once it was in it. Of course, much the same thing happened with this title – once it popped into my head it refused to leave and it was so darn appropriate I had little choice but use it. So please do not throw stuff at me. :P

Thank you, as ever, to everyone still reading this things, and especially to those who take time out to comment and review, wander over to my LJ to say 'hi' or generally make their presence known. /hugs you all/ It's much appreciated.


	40. Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

**Chapter 40** – _"Should I Stay Or Should I Go?"_

Of the many things raging through Penny's head as they arrived at Edoras, the most immediate was a genuine fear that she might get ill again and how best she could try and avoid this. It was hard to see how this many people could fit into the Meduseld (which they could not), so she hoped there would be no communal feasting at least until the wake. Even so she had suggested to Mireth she start drinking boiled water when they were still a day's ride out from Edoras. Mireth had said she was about to suggest the same thing.

Interestingly, the moment Halladan, Arvain and Faelon realised what Penny was doing, they did the same, and advised the other Dunedain to do so also. Admittedly Penny was a complete stranger and thus susceptible to all sorts of bugs that would probably not affect them in the least, but they were from far enough away that there might be illnesses in the water that they might not be used to. While they had been in Rohan once before with no ill-effect, it was possible Penny's illness had been due to something newly arrived in the water, perhaps as a consequence of the summer heat. Best not to risk it, they decided.

Indeed, Eleniel suggested to the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting they might want to follow Penny's example, though not all thought it necessary or took her up on her suggestion. Most of the Gondorians seemed unbothered by such things, but the Men of the North thought it prudent to take precautions.

"Besides," Faelon had said with a grin, "not drinking the water means drinking more of their beer, and I have no complaints about Rohirric ale."

It was true that the fermentation process of the beer would kill most bugs in the water. Penny knew that vaguely from some historical documentary snippet lodged in her brain somewhere, but even so, as they set up camp in the shadow of the walls of Edoras, she felt slightly anxious. Not only that but, given her last experience 'on the ale,' she was not sure it would be such a good idea if she partook of it in any large quantity. It was strong stuff, after all.

If she was honest, it was not only this return to the place where she had been so ill she had nearly died that had set off the butterflies in her stomach. She knew what was coming: the impending decision hanging over her, let alone the traumatic separation of Elrond and his daughter. She would see one side or the other of the aftereffects of that – whether in the Elrond's company or Arwen's – and she was not looking forward to it either way.

She was also rather conscious of the way she had been perceived by the ladies of Rohan the last time she had been here. Admittedly it might make a difference that she had got to know a few of the Rohirric lords while travelling, though not intimately by any means. She was still relatively limited in her language (though not as bad as the last time she was here, perhaps) and they had often kept themselves to themselves – happy enough to socialise but still a little wary and in awe of the elves. Penny had really only spoken to them when she had been seated with the Dunedain and even then for not any great length of time. Even so it was possible that small contact might be enough to have lessened her image as some kind of peculiarity best avoided.

She had found Elfhelm was rather charming, once she had got to know him a little better. He had spent quite a bit of time in Eomer's company at the Dunadan or Elven fire as they had journeyed. She had noticed there was a clear difference between him and your average Gondorian. For all he was polite and of noble bearing, there was a certain gruffness about him, the way he was always ready with a hearty laugh and slightly less reserved attitude that was true of most of the Rohirric lords, that spoke volumes when compared to most Gondorian nobles. More down to earth and less 'up themselves,' was how Penny thought of them. She thought it was a pity the Rohirrim did not speak Sindarin, really, because she suspected she would get on quite well with them. Certainly the Dunedain had a huge amount of respect for them and liked them immensely as Halladan himself had said the night before they had arrived at Edoras.

"Yes, but, any people that can make good beer would immediately come high in your esteem," Penny had retorted.

"I beg your pardon?!" Halladan had tried to look offended, though the half-smile on his face gave him away.

"To be fair, Pen-ii makes a good point."

Halladan had raised an eyebrow at Naurdir who had just chuckled.

When Arvain had chosen that moment to come over to join them, sitting himself down while loudly declaring he was looking forward to a tankard or two of Edoras's brew, Penny had folded her arms and looked smug, much to Naurdir's amusement.

That first afternoon of their arrival, some of her worries were soon calmed when she realised she was back in her usual tent with Mireth and the others and would not be joining Arwen and the ladies-in-waiting who were to be housed in the royal buildings behind the Meduseld. Aragorn, Faramir, Imrahil, and all the Fellowship were to join them also as guests of the King.

Apparently Galadriel, Elrond and others from amongst the elves had graciously declined the offer of accommodation, saying this was a time of mourning for Rohan on which they did not wish to intrude. In other words, there was no obligation on the elves to bow to diplomatic niceties to the point that they had to sleep in a place where the hygiene and general standard of cleanliness was not what they would wish for.

It had to be said Elladan and Elrohir both seemed slightly relieved not to have to follow their father and stay in Edoras itself (which they would have surely had to do had he accepted Eomer's offer). Clearly their brief sojourn there after the War had been more than enough to last them for a lifetime, much as they had great respect and love for the Rohirrim themselves. They would, however, be joining their father and their grandparents for a small-scale evening meal with King Eomer, if only for courtesy and formality's sake.

The majority of the Gondorian nobles stayed in the encampment. There was no room for all the elves and the nobles combined in the town, and it would have been most improper to only house mortals and not insist on housing the elves as well. There was no stigma attached to camping outside – most of the Rohirrim had camped outside the walls of Minas Tirith on their one night on the Pelennor only a couple of weeks before – nor was it seen as a slight or insult. It was accepted as a necessary practicality of visiting another city in such huge numbers.

The Rohirrim were insistent on playing host as best they could nonetheless. Thus fresh meat was sent down to be roasted for the visitors for their evening meal, a small cart carrying kegs of ale and barrels of wine appeared soon after the tents had been put up, and the townsfolk themselves wandered out through the city gates bringing baskets of fresh bread and cakes.

Penny avoided anything that she did not know had come from Gondor and been prepared by Naurdir himself.

Most of the nobles and several of the elves went up to the Meduseld after the evening meal where there was to be songs and a low-key gathering. However, Penny was wary of going. Halladan seemed none too enthusiastic about spending the rest of the evening in the company of lots of drunk warriors singing sad songs about fallen comrades. Thus the two hung back when Arvain and Faelon eagerly accepted accompanying Lindir and Celebdor.

"We will keep each other company," Halladan had smiled, reassuring Faelon.

He was not the only Dunadan to stay behind. There were several at their fire, so Penny did not feel too unsociable. The elves that had remained seemed even more subdued this evening, perhaps because for the first time Arwen was not with them, but doing her Queenly diplomatic duty and sitting beside her husband amongst the mortals. Penny was glad she had Halladan to sit with.

"If there is anything you think you might need, Pen-ii, this is your last chance to get it before you have several weeks of travel ahead of you," Halladan was saying. "If you decide to continue north with us, that is, of course."

She said nothing. He looked at her.

"Have you made a decision yet?"

She glanced at him and he saw that he had made her feel awkward.

"Forgive me. That perhaps came out more bluntly than I intended. I was merely wondering… No matter." He paused. "You will have to decide in the next day or two, though, do not forget. The sooner the better, truth be told."

"I know. It must seem so ridiculous to you, I am sure. I must seem so hesitant and…" She could not think of a suitable word. "…weak."

"Not at all. It is a big decision," he replied, trying to sound reassuring. Penny suspected he was just trying to say the right thing, though.

They fell into silence.

"Pen-ii, I would give you advice if you were to ask it of me. I… Well, I hope you consider me a good enough friend. If you need to talk to someone about your choices, what you are considering, to help you decide, then you have only to ask."

"Thank you, Halladan. Truly."

"Well, I am your guardian after all, am I not?"

He smiled and she returned it.

"Well, no matter where I stay, I think I might need to do something about these shoes soon," she muttered.

She tilted her foot slightly and poked at where the sole was getting dangerously thin and, while there was no hole as yet, she could definitely feel the edge of her nail on her foot as she prodded.

Halladan took his pipe from his mouth and leaned forward to look also. His brow furrowed in some astonishment.

"Pen-ii!"

"What?"

"Those shoes are nearly worn through! Surely you have another pair?"

"Yes… but they are just as bad. Elvish shoes are well made, but I have worn these two pairs day in, day out for several months now and with all that walking… I mean, there are only so many hours a day you can sit in a saddle, after all. It is only the soles that are getting thin…"

"We shall get some new leather tomorrow."

"But…"

"No argument, Pen-ii. You need new shoes. And more suitable ones for hours of walking than delicate elvish slippers, too, if you are to travel much further."

"I do not want to burden any of them with making new shoes for me, not with everything else that is troubling them right now."

"There will be a cobbler here in the town who can make you a pair. There is time enough even if you leave with us. Two days should be more than enough. If not, then we can just patch up those you have long enough to last you till Imladris or Minas Tirith. New soles if nothing else. Even I can sew on new soles if need be." He grinned. "I have had to mend many a boot in my time, you know."

She did not doubt he had. Probably had all sorts of useful skills up his sleeve as a Ranger. She said as much.

"Well, yes, that is true." He laughed.

She liked it when he laughed. His whole face lit up and it was at times like that she could feel he had genuinely forgotten his pain for a moment.

"What are you smiling about?"

He was smiling himself as he watched her, a curious expression on his face. She started slightly, not realising she had been staring at him.

"Oh, nothing. It is just… It is nice to see you laugh, Halladan, that is all."

His smile broadened a fraction and he glanced down, then tilted his head, almost in a shrug, though still smiling. Then he stuck his pipe back in his mouth and looked back at the fire, with a faintly amused air about him. Penny wondered at his reaction, though she felt unaccountably pleased with herself at the same time.

The next morning he was there at breakfast, chivvying her to hurry.

"The sooner we get to the tanner's, the better."

"Tanner?" Lindir looked up.

"Oh, well, er…"

Penny felt slightly embarrassed at having to admit she had been too shy to tell anyone her shoes had been close to falling apart, but Halladan cut across her.

"Pen-ii needs some new shoes. That or at least to replace the soles on her old ones. Travel has taken its toll, that is all." He smiled.

"You should have said, Pen-ii," Lindir now turned to her. "Several of us bought leather in Minas Tirith. I could have…"

"Oh, please, Lindir!" Rhimlath snorted. "Pen-ii has seen the state of those boots you made. You would be the last person she would come to. I, on the other hand…"

Lindir laughed out loud at that. "You are joking!"

"Not in the least," Rhimlath retorted imperiously. "Need I remind you that I made a pair of boots for Erestor?"

"Which he has never worn."

"He most certainly has!"

"Have you ever seen him wear them?"

"He wore them the same week I gave them to him as a matter of fact."

"And since then?"

There was a pause. "That is beside the point."

"It is precisely the point…"

Halladan and Penny exchanged 'a look' and a shake of the head and left them to it.

If Penny had thought Edoras could not have smelt much worse than when she was last there, she was wrong. The stench when she walked through the city gates was staggering. Summer had indeed marched on, and the heat was taking its toll, first and foremost on the pig sties next to the main gates.

The tanner's yard (which was next door to the pigs) stank nearly as badly, Penny decided. She had visited the tanners at Rivendell once or twice, so knew the smell could be a bit high, but in a confined space in the summer heat, it was infinitely worse. She could not help but wrinkle her nose as she stood to one side of the stone building, as near as possible to the open doorway, while Halladan inspected the various treated skins on offer. When he had decided on the most suitable piece of leather, haggled his way to a decent price, and turned with it rolled under his arm, he finally saw the expression on her face.

At which point he had a fit of uncontrollable chuckling.

"I never thought I would say I was glad to be in the open air of these streets," Penny muttered as she gingerly skirted round a fresh pile of horse manure, "but the stench in that yard was unbearable."

"Well, this town is perhaps more… fragrant than others, that is true."

He was still grinning.

"You find this funny, don't you?"

"Can you blame me, Pen-ii? You are so like an elf at times that it really is rather amusing to see you."

"Ah, you missed their entrance here that first night we entered the town. I nearly forgot how awful it was myself just watching them all."

"I can imagine."

"Scented cloths in front of their noses, expressions of appalled disgust… It was really quite something to behold." She paused as he laughed. "I thought of your father, actually."

"Father? How so?"

"Well, I just knew if he had been there, he would have been hooting with laughter and being really quite rude to them all."

"Almost certainly, I would have thought."

She glanced at him.

"You as well, I would imagine. And Arvain and Faelon."

"Who? Us?" he said in mock astonishment. "Never!"

He had the hint of a cheeky grin on his face, threatening to break through the supposedly affronted façade. He was waiting for her laughter first, though. When it came he joined her, chuckling heartily and freely.

The cobbler was about a third of the way up the hill in Edoras – a short enough walk from the tanners that he did not have to travel far to get his leather, but far enough away from the stench to not drive away custom.

Penny had the odd experience of feeling faintly shy when asked to take off her shoes, then place her naked feet one by one on a piece of leather on the floor while the cobbler's apprentice (a young man of about twenty or so) knelt down and made chalk outlines of them.

That he had hesitated before he had touched her foot to hold it still as he did his work and, more than that, had glanced first of all at Halladan as if seeking permission before murmuring an apology to Penny only made her feel even more uncomfortable.

She actually felt a faint flush creep into her cheek, very aware that Halladan was watching her and, she did not doubt, watching this man's every move. She was equally aware the cobbler was taking care not to touch more of her foot than need be.

It was all deeply peculiar, and just went to show how on some level she had got used to the social mores of a society where the smallest of things could actually be quite significant and potentially offensive.

Not even a year ago she would not have given a damn if a man had touched her foot for purely practical purposes, yet now she felt strangely self-conscious because of exactly that… though it could equally have been due to the fact that Halladan was standing staring at them both, the muscle in his jaw twitching slightly; Penny could not be wholly sure. After all, it could not have been the first time the man had traced the size and shape of a woman's foot onto a piece of leather, and Penny doubted he behaved in quite such a timid fashion with all of them. But then she could quite understand six feet of rugged, stern-looking ranger with a sword on his hip having an intimidating effect on people.

The cobbler cut off as much of the leather as he would need to make a pair of basic, sturdy shoes, and made to hand the rest back to Halladan, but Halladan asked if he could keep it for a little while. He explained he would return with two more pairs of shoes that needed new soles, perhaps more.

"I will see if Arvain's boots need attention," he explained as they left to return to the camp. "I know he was complaining that they were getting a little thin at the heel."

Ever the one looking out for the rest of the family, Penny mused.

There was no sign of Mireth at lunch. Celebdor said she was helping Elrond with various patients. Some of them were people they had treated a few weeks before whom Elrond was insisting he check up on, and others were newly arrived - those who had heard of the good works done the last time the elves were here and desperate for their help.

Naurdir had disappeared to see what wares he could stock up on for the journey north. Apparently, after hearing much about the Dunlendings from the Rohirrim, he was in no hurry to have to try and barter for anything as they travelled through the Gap of Rohan and up towards the Greenway. Better to get everything in advance (not that he needed much - most had been purchased in Gondor).

As during their last stay, the camp was filled with visitors. Some were families of those who had journeyed with the eored, come to meet the Gondorians and elves their husbands, brothers or sons had met on their journey, or alongside whom they had fought in the War. Children were often dodging in and out of the rows of tents, laughing and playing, or sitting quietly as those elves who were fluent in Westron told tales they could understand or else sang songs they could not but held them enthralled nonetheless.

Even so, there was still a sombre tone to the camp. Many elves kept themselves to themselves, unable, perhaps, to resist the charms of the children, but otherwise disinclined to engage too much in chit-chat and socialising. The Gondorians were more open to visitors, but then their part of the camp was at a slight remove.

Arwen had rejoined the elves. She would stay for the entire day, returning only last thing at night to her chambers. She would repeat the process for every day they were there. Right till the last.

Immediately after lunch Halladan disappeared once more back to the cobblers, one pair of Penny's shoes in his pack and Arvain by his side holding a pair of patched and worn boots. Penny entertained herself by joining Eleniel and a few of the Gondorian ladies playing with some of the children. After an hour or so she sat down to have a rest from the umpteenth game of chase and glanced up to see Arvain back in the camp, chatting with Glorfindel and Celebdor. There was no sign of Halladan.

She glanced round towards the mounds of the Kings and could see the men working hard getting the barrow ready for Theoden. Already they had begun to erect a stone chamber in the middle of the marked out circle. It was heavy, hard work since the stones were large ones, but several men were working together and were managing a steady pace. They were also making a short passage-way to the central chamber that led to the edge of the marked out circle. Other men were already digging a large ditch around it, the earth from it slowly beginning to pile up to form the mound itself.

As she watched them at their work, she found her mind wandering. She had been nicely occupied for most of the day so far, indeed the morning seemed to have sped past in Halladan's company and she had been glad to have had something else to think about, to distract her; but now, with the children playing nearby, her mind went into overdrive as if to make up for things.

She knew the sooner she let The Powers That Be know her decision one way or the other, the better. Admittedly she would have every right to leave it until the last evening to tell them – it would be easy enough to pack up her stuff and shift it into Edoras rather than plonking it on the back of a horse, after all – but she knew well enough the high emotion that would be involved in that last night, that Elrond, in fact, would not be around given he would be off in the hills somewhere with Arwen all night and no doubt Aragorn would be waiting anxiously for her, worrying for them both. That would hardly be the moment to bother them with trivialities such as where she might want to stay for the time being.

She knew what her decision should be; it was just a case of screwing up the courage to commit herself to it, that was all. Better to tell them as soon as possible. Perhaps tonight? Although… perhaps she might discuss it first, sound Halladan out, make sure she was making the right decision?

There was only an hour before the evening meal when she saw him again. He was sitting outside the tent he shared with several other Dunedain (a tent they had protested they did not need, but Faramir had insisted they have and use), whittling. He had a look of concentration on his face as slowly he slid the blade of the knife he always carried with him down a rather thin stick of wood. There was a scattering of little curls of shavings on his knees and on the grass around him. As she neared him, he glanced up.

"Ah, just the person!" He smiled.

"Oh?"

"Yes, if you can just wait one moment…"

He went back to his work, slicing three more slow curls of wood off the small stick, working one end to a blunt point.

"There. Done." He admired his handiwork. "Yes, that will do nicely. Now…"

He put his knife back in its scabbard on his belt, then bent slightly to rummage in his pack beside him.

"Here, have some shoes."

He held them out to her without looking up, still rummaging. Penny took them, admiring the thick wad of fresh leather on the soles.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome. If you give me the pair you are wearing now this evening, then I can take them to him tomorrow to… Where is it? Ah, yes. Here we are."

He pulled out a small piece of leather with something like triumph or pride on his face. He pushed the small stick he had just shaped through two holes punched through the leather on either side and then held it up for her to take.

"This is for you as well."

"For me? What is…?"

But even as she took it, she realised instantly what it was.

It was a leather hair fastener, just as she had seen and considered buying in Minas Tirith. The piece of leather had been cut into something like an oval shape, and all round the edge little marks had been punched and cut into the leather, making a simple but quite pretty pattern of short, inter-woven lines that almost looked like a plait or trailing plant.

"I did tell you such things are easy to make, Pen-ii, and not worth wasting your money on buying at the market. I trust it will serve?"

"Yes. Yes, it will serve very well, I am sure. Thank you, Halladan. That was very kind of you to remember I wanted one of these. I shall have to thank the cobbler also when I fetch my new shoes the day after tomorrow."

There was a slight pause and Halladan almost looked awkward.

"Actually, I made it."

Penny looked at him in astonishment. Quite why she felt so surprised, she was not sure. Of course he would be good at practical things – such was the nature of people's lives here that they had to be and she did not doubt for a second that Dunedain learnt some of the finer crafts, given their heritage as well as their close ties to the elves – but for Halladan to have taken time to do such a thing, a simple thing perhaps, but to have had the thought to do so…

Now she knew where he had been all afternoon.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice barely more than a murmur. She was so touched by his gesture that words failed her.

"Oh, it is nothing."

He waved his hand, perhaps looking even more awkward now, as if worried that perhaps he had made too big a thing of it, that perhaps it might have been better to let her assume the leather had been worked by the cobbler.

"It is not. It is something I needed, and you not only remembered but you made it for me yourself."

"Really it was no work. It was easy to make. I…" He paused and then shrugged with a smile. "I was going to leave it plain but then thought it would be nicer to put a design on it. It was quite pleasant to have something to occupy myself with for an hour or two. The cobbler let me use some of the tools he had in his workshop. He works leather for all sorts – scabbards, belts… He had some very fine work there for some new saddles… Gilt inlay, open work, really quite magnificent stuff…"

Penny was vaguely aware Halladan was rambling.

"I… I am very touched, Halladan. Thank you."

She smiled and he smiled back, before quickly getting to his feet and muttering something about how it must be time for food, brushing down his leggings to rid himself of the last few wood shavings, saying he would no doubt see her later and that he was glad she felt the hair tie would be of use before he wandered away rather quickly.

Penny glanced down at the hair tie, resolving to put it in her hair straight away, before herself wandering off to her tent to change into her newly soled shoes. It was only as she did so she realised she had not told him she had probably made her decision and had wanted to talk to him. She turned back to see if she could still see him, perhaps go after him, but he had disappeared completely in amongst the tents somewhere. It did not matter. It could wait.

She found Mireth in their tent. She had just returned from calling on a woman whose husband she had helped treat the last time she had been in the town. Penny could see there was something wrong. Mireth had, like all the elves, been more quiet and subdued in the past few days, but the moment Penny walked into the tent she only had to look at the expression on Mireth's face to know something else had happened.

"Mireth?"

Mireth glanced up. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears and something in her expression made Penny very conscious of just how old Mireth was, how many centuries she had seen.

She quickly put her shoes and hair tie on her bed roll and sat next to Mireth, taking her hand.

"Oh, Mireth. I am so sorry."

Mireth gave her a sad smile.

"You never get used to it. I… That is, we, Lord Elrond and I… We feared that he might not…"

"If not even a healer of your experience and knowledge could help him, Mireth…"

"Perhaps. That does not make it any easier or any less upsetting." She sighed and shook her head. "He left a wife and five children, Pen-ii. Five beautiful children."

She bowed her head and Penny put her arm round her shoulder.

This was not the first time someone Mireth had tended to since she had journeyed south had died. Several who had been already seriously ill from their wounds had died while she had last been in Rohan, and one or two while in Gondor also. There had been others whom Mireth had seen or tended to for whom there had been no hope, whose death, even if she would not be there to witness it, had been inevitable. Mireth had been saddened by every one, but not affected nearly as much as she was now. Penny suspected the whole brooding awareness of leaving Arwen behind in two days time to die a mortal death had as much to do with Mireth's distress and sensitivity right now as anything else.

They sat for a few minutes till Mireth stirred at last, forcing a brighter smile in Penny's direction.

"You got your shoes?"

"Yes, Halladan just gave them to me. Oh, and this."

She showed her the hair tie.

"Did he make this?"

"Yes. How did you…?"

"The wooden stick has not been sanded. The cut marks are still fresh." Mireth smiled. "That was kind of him."

"Was it not? I am going to wear it straight away. Do you think my hair is long enough?"

"I should think so, though…" Mireth inspected the piece of leather. "This may be a little too big. You might find it comes loose until you have more hair to knot up into it. But we shall try it."

Mireth was right, it was a little loose, the holes set slightly too far apart to be a tight fit for the comparatively small amount of hair Penny had to scoop up at the back of her head. It stayed in, but Penny had to readjust it every now and then, and did so twice even before the evening meal was ready.

This did not bother her in the slightest but did mean her hair became a little messier and looser than Mireth was happy with. Every time Penny pulled the tie out, roughly pulled her hair into a bun and pressed the leather over it, sticking the stick through the holes and her hair as best she could while Mireth was nearby, there would be a loud tutting and a heavy sigh before Mireth would insist on taking it out and doing it all over again herself.

After the evening meal, there was the same discussion as the previous night as to who might head up to the Meduseld. Penny was not sure, even when Faelon pointed out that she did not have to drink or eat anything while there and could even carry a small flask of boiled water with her if she wanted.

Halladan too seemed hesitant, and perhaps with even more reason than on the previous night. Arwen was still in the camp, so most of the elves were not heading up to the Meduseld. More than that, Aragorn had come to join her, and at the moment Eomer was with him, no doubt leaving his sister to tend to the guests in the Meduseld for the time being. Faramir was with him also and Gandalf, though there was no sign of the hobbits who were all keeping Merry company in the Meduseld.

It basically meant whatever small gathering might take place in Edoras would be a mortal-only affair pretty much and, while there would be serving wenches and various female Rohirrim in attendance, as well as the few Gondorian ladies-in-waiting who were busy getting to know the Rohirric nobles and their wives, most would be warriors, and the probability of certain topics of conversation being inescapable was even higher than the night before.

When Halladan decided he might stay, Faelon said he would join him. Arvain said he wanted to have a drink, heading off with Firmorndir, various other Gondorians and only one or two Dunedain.

There was an interesting moment just before he did so, however.

Corunir was with Fimorndir when he had stopped to see who from the Dunedain might join them for the walk up to the Golden Hall. He had even gone as far as asking Penny if she were well and smiling politely at her. He had just started to ask if she would be joining them and, if so, would she perhaps have a dance with him later when he was simultaneously talked over by both Fimorndir and Halladan at once. Fimorndir cut him off by hurriedly announcing they had best be off, while Halladan loudly wondered what it was Penny needed to talk to him about so urgently.

"What?" Penny blinked at him

"You said you need to talk to me, as your guardian. Now would be a good time, perhaps, no?"

"Er…?"

Halladan was already leading her away from the group, Fimorndir already doing the same to Corunir but in the opposite direction, Arvain flanking him and giving Corunir a fearsome glare (Halladan having told him exactly what Corunir had been playing at a week before). There was a faint mutter of 'I was just being polite…' from Corunir before he caught the look Arvain was giving him, at which point he shut up rather quickly.

"There will be dancing?" Penny was surprised.

"Yes, some, though rather sedate and low-key, I suspect. Most will not be indulging. Does not surprise me that Corunir would be one who does, though."

Penny looked at him.

"You do not like him, do you?"

"No."

"Any particular reason?"

After all, Corunir had been relatively tolerated in their company till he had chosen to stop muscling in on their gatherings only a week before, Penny mused. He had been an irritant, yes, but Halladan had spoken with real venom in his voice just then.

Halladan sighed, stopped walking and turned to look at her.

"I was not going to tell you, but if you ask me directly like that then… Besides, perhaps you have a right to know. If you want to know the truth, he had… ideas to woo you. Fimorndir warned me of it."

"Oh." She was confused. Why would that warrant him being quite so angry?

Halladan realised he would have to explain properly.

"He would not have been serious," he explained. "His intention was only to make others think he was serious."

"Oh."

"Your reputation at court is one that some would not have considered you a suitable match. His mother, for instance, apparently. It seems he delights in the idea of annoying her as much as possible."

She opened her mouth to say 'oh' once more but no sound came out.

She should not care. Corunir was clearly as much of a git as she had suspected he was, but it was still not a nice thing to hear, especially given it concerned how some considered her in court, even if it only confirmed what she already knew.

'Not a suitable match'? Yeah, well, that pretty much summed it up, didn't it? That was something she had tried not to think about. In fact with everything else crowding in on her head of late, it had not been too difficult, but it was something that had certainly occurred to her before now: if she was stuck here for the rest of her life, she was likely to live a very lonely life. After all, what sort of wife would she make a man in this society? She was less than useless at most things, and by the time she learnt anything of use to any degree of skill, she would likely as not be far too old to be in the marriage market. She was already edging towards the 'strangely old to be still unmarried' as it was, as Meresel had sometimes hinted.

"You must not take such things to heart, Pen-ii. Corunir is not worth your time or mine, and his idea of you, the idea that some in the court might have of you, is far from the truth. Besides, would you want to be the sort of woman that people such as they would approve of? Someone like Lady Sidhwen, for example?"

"Well, no…"

"Fimorndir does not agree with their assessment of you. He was furious on your behalf nearly as much as Arvain and I. Nor would any who truly know you and whose opinions matter agree either."

Penny tried to smile, aware he was complimenting her, but the smile was a rather hesitant one. She still slightly bewildered.

There was a pause.

"Perhaps I should not have said anything. I believe in being honest, Pen-ii, perhaps a little too forcefully at times…"

"No, no. I am glad you told me. Glad in some ways that my assessment of him was not misplaced, though a little put out that the opinion of me is nearly as low in some quarters as I suspected it might be." She gave a half-chuckle, almost rueful. "You know, not that long ago I would have been furious to hear something like this. I am sure I will be very angry indeed later when it sinks in, but right now… Ai, I don't know… I have changed so much from the person I used to be, Halladan, and sometimes my reactions to things seem so strange. Other peoples' opinions matter to me now in a way that they never used to. Which is not to say they never did, but I was more confident of myself… less sensitive to others' opinion, if that makes any sense. It is partially the difference in society - here women perhaps do have to worry more about how they are perceived - but also my character, who I am or who I was, perhaps, is so out of sorts with how things are here that I am constantly made aware of it, have to worry about it…"

"Pen-ii," Halladan interrupted, "I think you perhaps do not realise how much you have changed. The life of the court in Gondor is a rather singular one. You should not take the fact that you did not fit in well there as anything significant. Besides you also made good friends there, did you not? The kind of woman who would naturally fit in to such a place is not the kind of woman I would wish to be a guardian for, nor someone that my father would have wanted to have much to do with beyond his most basic duty. You can take my word on that. Surely even looking at the Rohirrim, you can see how different they are? The elves are a far nobler people than any Gondorian, but they do not have nearly the same attitudes and expectations, and you feel no such awkwardness or self-awareness in their presence, do you? That should tell you much. Believe me, Pen-ii, if your character was as unbecoming as some in Gondor thought it to be, no elf would have anything to do with you, nor any Dunadan." He smiled. "I would not consider you the friend I do, nor Arvain, nor Faelon, nor any of us. You must believe that."

She smiled then, if a little shyly. "Thank you."

"I mean it."

"I know you do. I do not deserve it, but I thank you."

"And you have every right to be angry with Corunir. If it were not for the fact that Fimorndir had already spoken to him and it would cause a scene, well I would have…" He stopped himself. "Well, no matter. He should know better, and if he makes any attempt to gain a hold in your affections, then I insist you let me know."

"If he makes any attempt to gain a hold in my affections, you _will_ know, Halladan, trust me."

Not even a seasoned soldier was immune to a swift kick in the groin, after all.

Halladan looked at her, as if guessing her meaning from her tone of voice. He laughed quietly and shook his head.

"What?"

"Nothing." He grinned and she returned it.

They walked together in companionable silence for a few more minutes, content to be in each other's company. At last Halladan spoke.

"If I might say something, Pen-ii, while we are on this subject… I do not think Gondor would be the best place for you and I suspect deep down you know that. I know you have not asked for my advice, but there it is nonetheless."

"It is funny you should say that, Halladan. I wanted to talk to you about this. I was going to this afternoon but you rushed off so fast after giving me the hair tie, that I forgot till afterwards."

"Ah, so I unwittingly hit near the truth just now when I said you needed to talk to me, eh? And?"

She stopped and took a deep breath.

"I have to agree with you. Gondor is not the place I would wish to be. For all the reasons we have just discussed. More than that, I have to consider the fact that you and Arvain are insisting on staying wherever I do, and I suspect the last place you would wish to spend the next few years is in sight of the Pelennor and the Mountains of Mordor."

"Pen-ii," Halladan began, his voice low, "You know that such things are beside the…"

"No, let me finish, Halladan. It is not beside the point. It is an important thing to consider. I do not wish to be the cause of more distress for you, albeit unintentionally. Not only that but it would be difficult for me also to a lesser extent. It was hard enough the first time. The idea of going back there, to see it all once more…" She stopped, unable to continue. "There are things that made me pause about staying with Lord Elrond, however. No matter that I know he means it when he says I am more than welcome, I still feel uncomfortable knowing I am staying there unable to contribute meaningfully to the community, not able to pay my way in some fashion. That is without the awkwardness I feel after my outburst with him, which I know is entirely of my own making…"

"Pen-ii, I have told you…"

"Please, Halladan. I know." She paused, trying to find her thread once more. "The other thing is… Well, I do not know how long the elves remain at Imladris. They might stay far beyond my lifespan and they might not."

Halladan was looking at her in astonishment.

"Elladan and Elrohir do not sail with Lord Elrond, and Lord Celeborn comes to stay with them, but what happens then… how long they stay, or if they sail at all…"

"What?" Halladan's voice was an appalled whisper.

"Oh, I am sure they do," she added hurriedly. "Just 'when' is not known, that is all."

Halladan said nothing for a moment, clearly somewhat stunned by the last part of what she had to say.

"You certainly have thought much about this," he said at last, slowly.

"I have not been sleeping, I have been so concerned by it all. If I were to stay in Gondor… ai, the thought of trying to run a house by myself, Halladan, it terrifies me. I would not have the first idea of what to do. I have no skills for this life. At least in Imladris I can hide behind everyone else. I can help to a limited extent, but otherwise I am largely provided for. At the same time that makes me feel incredibly guilty. I am not that sort of person, Halladan. I make my own way, do things for myself. It is so frustrating not to be able to do so."

It was still light, though dusk was beginning to draw in with the late summer night. They were near the edge of the encampment, just several yards away from the Dunadan fire. Halladan sat on the grass, looking up at the faint yellow glow above the mountains to the west.

"I understand, Pen-ii."

He was leaning forward slightly, his hands clasped and his forearms on his knees. Penny sat down next to him. He looked at her.

"No doubt you feel you should somehow contribute even more, given how upset and angry you made Lord Elrond?"

Penny said nothing. She did not look at him at first, but eventually glanced sideways at him, a slightly sheepish look. Halladan nodded.

"Well, then, let me tell you what Arvain and I have discussed. I have held off saying anything since I did not want you to feel beholden to us in any way. I wanted you to decide between the choices presented to you by Lord Elrond and King Elessar first. If you had a genuine desire to live in Gondor or Imladris, neither Arvain nor myself would stand in your way, but would support you as best we could." He held up a hand as Penny started to protest. "No, no, let me finish, Pen-ii." He smiled. "It is my turn to talk now."

"Sorry." She gave him an embarrassed grin. "I shall keep quiet. You were saying."

He inclined his head in thanks, still smiling.

"As I was saying, we are committed to you as guardians, whether you will or no. It was Father's dying wish. So be it. We are happy to do it, were so even before we met you, doubly so now we have. Faelon is impressed by you and likes you, indeed he thinks our suggestion is a good one, after all, as you say, you do not know how long the elves might stay at Imladris, and many will leave with Lord Elrond. It will not be the same place you know it as then."

"I know." She felt a heavy weight in her stomach at the thought.

"Anyway, we were thinking…" He looked away from her, staring straight ahead at the mountains. "Why not come and live with us?"

Penny blinked at him. She was not sure she had heard him correctly. He rattled straight on, talking slightly too quickly, his voice a little gruff, as if trying to convince her this was a good idea.

"We have the space, we would be glad of the company, and how much easier to be guardians to you than if you were settled amongst our own? You have Sindarin, so there would be no problem of communication, and Faelon agrees with us that you would fit in far better with our people than any in Gondor or even here in Rohan. He is very taken with the idea, in fact, is talking already of how much you and his wife will get along... Of course you would have to stay at Imladris at first. We have work to do in the wilds first, as you know, and it would then take a little time to prepare things for you at home, but after some months you could…"

He paused and cleared his throat. Only now did he risk looking at her.

"Well, what do you think?"

Penny was still staring at him in bewilderment. The idea thrilled her and terrified her at the same time.

"I…"

She searched for the right words, was trying to get her brain in gear, was not wholly sure what her answer would be even as the words fell out of her mouth.

"I think… I think I would like that very much."

Only then did Halladan realise he had been holding in his breath, letting it go as a broad grin spread over his face. Penny slowly matched it, even as she let the fact that she had agreed sink in.

"You are sure?"

"Yes. Yes, I think so."

"You can always change your mind. If you feel you would prefer to live at Imladris, then it would be easy enough for you to stay on there instead. I do not want you to feel you have to accept this, none of us would."

"No, no, not at all. I…" She looked down at her hands for a moment. "I have enjoyed being in mortal company. I love the elves and I have made many true friends amongst them, but…" She trailed off, not quite sure how to put it.

Halladan gave a soft laugh.

"I understand. For all you share much in common with the elves, you are still a mortal at heart."

She looked at him, looked at the kind grey eyes smiling at her, and knew she was superbly pleased with her decision, could not have been happier in fact. As much as she could understand their reasons for having waited to tell her, if they had said something sooner it could have saved her a lot of stress. On the other hand, if she had been presented with the idea much earlier, she would never have got herself to the point of making her peace with Elrond, so perhaps there had been some benefit in the delay. Whatever the case, it now seemed like the obvious solution, and she was so grateful, so pleased that she could not even begin to express it.

Halladan murmured something about getting back to the fire and then seeing if Aragorn and Elrond were still in the camp so they could be told of her decision. He stood, holding out his hand to help her up.

Once she was on her feet beside him there was a moment's hesitation, Halladan sensing that she perhaps wanted to say something.

"Thank you."

She hugged him impulsively, standing on tiptoe slightly to do it, throwing her arms about his neck and pressing her cheek against his. She was acutely aware as she did so that he smelt faintly of leather and pipe smoke, that his cheek was slightly rough with stubble, that he was hugging her back and the muscles in his arms felt strong and warm against her back.

It was not likely anyone who saw them noticed that they held each other for a fraction of a second too long. It can be difficult to know when to break a clinch with someone without it seeming awkward, after all. But then they were guardian and ward, if not in some sense akin to brother and adopted sister in effect as well as friends. So if the hug seemed more than merely cursory, it was undoubtedly entirely understandable.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

My sincere apologies for the long delay in getting this chapter written. Real life has been getting increasingly hectic and detrimental to decent Penny-writing time.

Re. Elladan & Elrohir: in the main works, JRRT made it clear they did not sail with Elrond and Galadriel but stayed on in Imladris. Later Celeborn, who also did not sail then and there, left Lothlorien and came to stay with them there. What happened then was never specified in canon. In the Letters, however, JRRT seems to indicate that Elrond's sons might eventually sail West, in that he makes it clear they could delay their choice – they did not have to sail with Elrond, but could still follow him later. He does not specify that they did indeed sail later, though, so it is still open to debate, though I like to think they do, if only because the angst on old Elrond's head would surely be too much to cope with, the poor ellon. Penny's response to Halladan then is not based on certainty. She is not lying so much as trying to sound positive.

My thanks, as ever, to all those still reading this and in particular those who take time to comment, review and get in contact – it is much appreciated.


	41. In Some Corner Of A Foreign Field

**Chapter 41** – _"In Some Corner Of A Foreign Field"_

Once back at the fire, Halladan made a beeline for Faelon. He let him know that he had broached the subject of Penny coming to stay with them and that she had readily agreed to it. Faelon's reaction was immediate. He loudly declared that it only proved that Penny clearly had the good sense and character he had always suspected she did.

"After all, who in their right mind would not choose to live with the Wild Rangers of the North?"

He winked and laughed.

Before Penny could protest, he was instantly on his feet, insisting that all the Dunedain there join him in a toast to their 'newly adopted charge.' As the rich basses and baritones echoed Faelon's words round the fire, Penny found she was blushing furiously into her cup, though she could not help grinning all the same as Halladan nudged her. She looked up to find him beaming at her, holding his cup out towards her momentarily before he drank also.

Arvain had said he would not be overlong at the Meduseld, and they waited some time for him, Faelon taking the opportunity to, frankly, bewilder and bemuse Penny with descriptions of family life, how much his wife would like her, the layout of the countryside near where they lived, till even Halladan laughingly pleaded with him to stop.

Faelon, still smiling broadly, apologised and started on a lengthy song instead which, it transpired, was a very ancient and famous one amongst the Dunedain (given several others round the fire joined in at parts). It told the tale of the heroic deeds of Aranarth, the first Chieftain of the Dunedain, who had faced the armies of the Witchking himself and avenged the destruction of his father's kingdom. It seemed he had been something of a legend in his own lifetime.

"Though nothing compared to Aragorn, of course," Halladan added in a murmur to Penny.

Penny did not doubt for a second that it was very likely a trait to be found in most of the Dunedain to a greater or lesser extent, not just the royal line. She said as much but Halladan merely shrugged in a suitably vague and non-committal way, murmuring how she might be right, it was hard for him to say, that all but confirmed her suspicions. But then the elves at Imladris had told her that much and, after all, they would know given how close a contact they had with them all, let alone having had the heir apparent fostered amongst them for fifteen generations.

At last, when Faelon had finished his ballad and there was still no sign of Arvain, Halladan said it might be wise to find Aragorn and Elrond to tell them of her decision before Aragorn retired for the night and went back up to the Meduseld. Faelon said he would send Arvain on to find them if he returned before they got back.

The mood around the elvish fire when Penny and Halladan got there was a strange one and both of them instinctively held back a little at first. There was no singing, no laughter, though everyone seemed amiable enough, chatting quietly in small groups. Even so, anyone who knew elves could sense things were not as they would normally be.

Penny spotted Elrond and Aragorn seated together on the far side of the gathering. A few others were with them, Gandalf for one, as well as Erestor, Glorfindel and Elrohir, all seated on throws and blankets laid out on the grass, sipping wine from ornate cups that glinted and gleamed in the firelight.

Penny touched Halladan's arm to get his attention so as to point them out, but he had already seen them, was already moving off towards them. He smiled down at her, nodding his head, and led the way through the crowd of subdued elves.

Aragorn saw them coming long before they reached him. His face broke into a warm smile and he watched them approach with an expectant, interested air. Soon others had noticed what he was looking at, and both Glorfindel and Elrohir called out to them since it was clear they were heading their way.

"Ah, Halladan, Pen-ii, a pleasure to see you both," Elrond said graciously as they finally reached them. "Please, do join us."

Halladan murmured his thanks, bowing his head both to him and to Aragorn.

"We have no wish to intrude. I simply thought it best Pen-ii come and discuss her decision with you sooner rather than later, that was all."

Penny had wondered if 'decision' would be enough explanation, but apparently it was since Aragorn and Elrond exchanged a glance and Gandalf raised an eyebrow. Elrohir suddenly turned to Erestor to ask him something and Glorfindel started discussing something or other with a few of the Gondorian nobles who had accompanied Aragorn – discreet and diplomatic to an ellon.

"Discuss?" Gandalf said quietly. "Surely her mind is already made up, no?"

Penny looked at him, surprised, but it was Halladan who responded.

"Well, yes, but..."

Since Halladan had hesitated momentarily Penny continued for him.

"I would welcome your opinion and any advice that…"

Elrond was on his feet even before she had finished speaking, smiling kindly as he gestured towards the nearby tents.

"Shall we retire to my tent?"

Elrond did not wait for a reply, merely led on down the wide path made by two rows of tents till they reached the one he shared with Glorfindel, Erestor and his sons, Halladan and Aragorn falling into step behind him, and Gandalf hanging back slightly to walk with Penny. When they reached the tent, Halladan stepped ahead of them all, holding the door flap open for them to pass through, even insisting on ushering Penny ahead of him.

"Well, now," Elrond once they had entered. "Make yourselves comfortable. Halladan, Pen-ii, will you have some wine?"

Elrond had brought his cup with him, as had Aragorn and Gandalf, and was gesturing to a wine sac and set of clay cups set on a small chest to one side of the tent. Halladan thanked him, gesturing for Penny to sit and handing her his stick while he fetched them a cup of wine each. That he could walk occasionally without needing a support, if only for very brief periods, showed how much he was improving (albeit slowly).

At the insistence of Eomer that every comfort be provided for those few who, in other circumstances, might have stayed in the city, chairs had been brought down from the Meduseld as well as a few rugs, cushions and the like to furnish some of the tents. There were currently only two chairs in Elrond's tent, however. Elrond seemed content to stand, so Gandalf took one, leaving the other for Aragorn. Halladan and Penny perched side by side on a bedroll lying on top of a fresh pile of straw. Given the small stack of books beside it, Penny assumed it was Erestor's.

"So you have come to a decision at last, Pen-ii?" It was Elrond who spoke. "Good. I am glad." The smile he gave her was genuinely warm. "I realise it has been hard for you, for… various reasons."

Penny looked down into her cup.

"Come, that is all in the past, Pen-ii, is it not?"

She forced herself to look at him and smile. He returned it.

"So, tell us. What have you decided?"

Penny and Halladan exchanged a glance.

"Well, I… that is to say, Halladan… um…"

"Faelon, Arvain and myself have suggested that Pen-ii come and stay with us, with the Dunedain."

There was a pause. While Elrond had initially seemed somewhat surprised, he now looked pleased as well as possibly a little intrigued. Gandalf seemed to be smiling to himself, looking down into his cup and nodding as if he had somehow known or guessed this might be the case. Aragorn, however, was openly smiling at the pair of them.

"Truly? And you have agreed, Pen-ii?"

She nodded.

His smile broadened and he laughed.

"Well, then I shall feel no slight at your not wishing to stay in Gondor," he said, though in a tone that made it clear he would have felt no slight whatever her decision. "Not when you have chosen Arnor and my own kinsmen."

"I think it is an excellent decision," Gandalf agreed. "I know Halbarad was thinking along those lines himself, was he not?"

He looked at Aragorn as he said this, and Aragorn nodded.

"Indeed, though I do not think he had considered it in much detail, or made a final decision. He wanted to discuss it further with myself and…"

He trailed off, gesturing towards Elrond, the unspoken implication of his words being that such a thing would not have been possible till after the War, a war that Halbarad had known he would not survive.

There was a brief moment when no one spoke, during which Penny was aware Elrond had still said nothing, but before she could direct a question to him specifically asking for his opinion, Halladan coughed and broke the silence.

"I would request, Lord Elrond, that, if you would agree, Pen-ii stays with you at Imladris for a little while first of all. Just until we have had time to prepare things for her, indeed we have yet to fully consider what arrangements will be needed, but there is time enough to discuss all that as we journey north. I have no idea how long it might be before we will be able to have things ready but no more than a few months I would hope. Perhaps once the worst of winter is passed."

"But of course." Elrond inclined his head slightly. "I was about to suggest the same thing. After all, I suspect that, had you not made such a suggestion, Pen-ii would have chosen to stay with us in Imladris indefinitely, would you not, Pen-ii?"

"Yes, Lord Elrond." Penny glanced apologetically in Aragorn's direction. "It is not that Gondor is not a magnificent place, and the people noble, it is just…"

Aragorn held up a hand. "I quite understand, Pen-ii. Arwen suspected that would be your choice. It has not been easy for you in Minas Tirith. I know that."

Gandalf chuckled. "I do believe Erestor warned you, did he not, Pen-ii? That, for all you might have worried how best to go about things in elvish company, it was as nothing to the social structures of mortal society and Gondorian society especially?"

Aragorn raised an amused eyebrow at him.

"Oh, come now, Estel," Elrond insisted. "Even you yourself said as much after you had first travelled there."

"You did, you know," murmured Gandalf with a smirk.

Aragorn made a face that showed he conceded the point, but only because he was being forced to.

"It is not only that, though that is a large part of it," Penny continued. "All the damage from the War was… well, something of a shock, as you all know."

"That is understandable," Elrond said quietly. "It was not easy for you, both for the very particular reasons related to your situation and that you are unused to such things."

"It has not been easy even for those who _are_ more used to such things," Aragorn muttered. For a moment he and Halladan caught each other's eye, though they said nothing.

"Exactly. I also…" Penny hesitated, glancing at Halladan before continuing. "Well, there were other considerations, that is all. I thank you, King Elessar, for your generous hospitality, and much as I would dearly wish to stay in your company and the Queen's, I feel I might be better suited to life in the North."

"You are most welcome, Pen-ii, and I quite agree. Be it with the elves or with the Dunedain, I do indeed think life in the North will suit you well."

"Other considerations?" Elrond seemed curious. "Such as?"

Penny felt flustered suddenly, but Halladan answered for her.

"I think Pen-ii was a little concerned how much Arvain and myself might want to move to the South."

Penny looked at him, surprised that he could be quite so frank and open.

"Oh, I am sure Arvain would not have minded," Aragorn said with a grin. "And the ladies of Gondor certainly would not have objected in the least. Truth be told, I am surprised there was not more wailing and weeping at his parting."

There were chuckles at that, and even Penny laughed quietly.

"Ah, and speaking of Arvain…" Gandalf murmured.

As he spoke, Penny became aware of voices outside. Just as Arvain could be heard asking if his brother and Penny were inside, Gandalf levered himself out of his chair, crossed over to the tent flap and held it open.

"Come in, my boy! Come in. We are discussing your charge, after all. You should be in here."

"Thank you, Mithrandir." Arvain smiled and entered, bowing slightly to Aragorn as he came in. "What is all this? I came back to the fire and Faelon said I should come and seek you out. He would not tell me what it is about, but had a look about him that told me something was up."

"Pen-ii has agreed to come and live with us, brother, as we discussed."

Arvain stared at Penny for a moment.

"Truly?" A grin was forming. "You will? Ha! But that is wonderful news!"

He practically threw himself down onto the cot next to her, before pulling her into a hug.

"Care for some wine, Arvain?"

"No, I thank you, Lord Elrond, but wine on top of ale would not be wise."

"We were just saying how much the ladies of Gondor will miss you," Aragorn said with a grin on his face.

"Now that there will be little prospect of you returning to Gondor any time soon, that is," Elrond explained. "Apparently Lady Pen-ii here was concerned as to how much you might want to live there rather than remain in the north."

"Really?" Arvain looked at Penny in some confusion. "I admit I would have missed home, but I would not have minded overmuch. After all, both kinsmen and King would be there, no?"

Penny forced a smile. "Yes, yes, of course. You are right."

"I think most of her concern was for me, Arvain," Halladan said quietly.

Penny was acutely aware of him sitting beside her but just at that moment she could not bring herself to look at him.

"Oh. Oh, I see. Yes, of course." Arvain seemed subdued suddenly, though he kept giving Penny puzzled glances.

"You must forgive me, Halladan," said Aragorn softly, "for perhaps having kept you there overlong."

"Not at all." Halladan shook his head. "There is no need."

Penny knew that, as gracious and no doubt sincere as Halladan's response had been, the sooner he could have left Gondor the better it would have been for him, but she said nothing – it was not her place, and she was still slightly bewildered at this subject being spoken of so freely.

"I have to admit I had not realised it was being in Gondor itself that you also found difficult."

"Places can hold memories too, Arvain," Gandalf said quietly, and as he spoke Penny caught his eye.

There was something knowing about his look that made her wonder if perhaps he had not only guessed that Halladan had had a flashback she had witnessed, but had had some insight into the exact nature or circumstances of it.

She had little time to consider it, however, as the conversation quickly turned, no doubt as a concerted effort by all there not to dwell on matters that no doubt made Halladan uncomfortable. They did not stay long after that.

As they were leaving, Elrond called her over to him, his voice low.

"You are most welcome in Imladris. We shall be glad of your company. I know you know that, and I am pleased that you have allowed yourself to come to terms with whatever happened in Minas Tirith…" He held up a hand to stop her from interrupting. "No, no, please. We shall not refer to it again. It is past." He smiled, taking hold of the top of her arm for a moment. "I am pleased also by Halladan's suggestion. It is an excellent one. It was something that we had discussed amongst ourselves also as a possibility, and I am glad that both Halladan and Arvain intend to follow their father's wishes and take on the role of guardian that he himself had considered, indeed pledged himself to take on. It does them great credit, and I know that they will fulfil their duty by you to the best of their ability, which is considerable, and with honour and fidelity. Their father was a good and noble man, one I loved dearly as you know, and they, along with their brother, followed him in that respect, and I love them easily as much as I did Halbarad. It warms my heart to know that they will be the ones to look after you. I have no qualms, no hesitation in handing that responsibility over to them. I know you will settle in well with the Dunedain, and they will be very accepting of you, indeed already are."

"Thank you, Lord Elrond. It means so much to me to hear you say all this."

And she did indeed feel a huge sense of relief to hear him talking so positively about her decisions and future situation. She realised that his opinion mattered very greatly to her, perhaps in large part because of their altercation and how even till recently she had feared she had lost his respect forever. She paused for a moment before continuing.

"I will be honest, Lord Elrond, I hesitated a little over Imladris if only because I know that… once you leave…Well, there are so many of you whom I have got to know well who will be going..."

"Oh, some will stay. Some will follow us later, some not at all. But you are right. Soon enough Imladris will, perhaps, not be quite the same as it is now." He paused. "But then in truth," and he looked up as he spoke, his focus over her shoulder to the opposite wall of the tent, "it has been slowly changing for many years now. Long ago much of its light was lost and it has been diminishing ever since."

Penny wondered what he was referring to, whether the loss he spoke of was that of Celebrian, or if it went further back to the first exodus of elves after The Battle of the Last Alliance, perhaps both. Whatever the case she was not about to ask, and Elrond did not look like he was going to be terribly forthcoming. He smiled, if a little sadly, took her arm, and led her out of the tent into the starlight.

The next morning started with the unexpected arrival of several Rohirrim at the Dunedain fire. Most were those who had fought alongside them in the days of the War, who considered them friends and brothers-in-arms. Apparently hunts were to be had that morning in preparation for the feasting that would be held over the next few days. Would any men there care to join them, if only for a diversion?

Many jumped at the chance. It would be an opportunity to exercise the horses, to take some time away from the strangely quiet and oppressive melancholy of the elves, indeed for the Dunedain to do the sort of thing they loved best – go out in to the wild and track stuff. Arvain and Halladan could hardly bolt down their breakfast quick enough, indeed Arvain actually left the breakfast group with an apple in one hand and a hunk of bread still in his mouth, hurrying after his brother to fetch his pack, his bow and his saddle.

Penny resisted the opportunity to mutter something about 'typical men' under her breath, but it really did have that feel about it. She shook her head and chuckled.

"You will have to get used to that sort of thing once you live with the Dunedain," Frodo said with a smile. "Great trackers and hunters, to a man. You should hear old Bilba on the subject, he is quite the expert… for all he has only ever heard reports of them while sitting in Imladris, of course." He laughed. "He has a huge respect for them."

"I know. I remember him telling me as much many times."

The two fell into quiet conversation as they poured themselves second cups of tea. The hobbits, even though they were housed in Edoras and ate their meals there, still made a point of coming down to the camp quite frequently, and took the opportunity of having tea with Penny of a morning to try and wangle a second breakfast while there (or even a third if they got to the elves' fire before Naurdir had packed everything away).

There was no sign of Merry that morning, however, and indeed he had rarely been seen since they had arrived in Edoras. Apparently he was spending a lot of time in the Meduseld, standing vigil beside Theoden. The king was lying in state under his cloth of gold on a plinth itself draped in fine brocades and cloth, torches round about him, men-at-arms standing still and silent at each corner. It was quite an impressive sight according to Frodo. He had been in a splendid chamber off the Meduseld hall, but today was due to be moved into the Meduseld itself.

The men of Theoden's family and his personal guard kept a constant watch over him, and Merry was counted one of these by default: a great honour and a role he was proud to perform. It was also why Eowyn was only to be seen by the guests in the evening, and even then only briefly – most of her time (when she was not in the company of Faramir, that was) was spent in quiet watchfulness over her uncle's body or else making preparations for the burial the following day and the feasting afterwards.

All day from early morning men continued to work on the barrow, and it grew foot by foot in height with every hour. Most of the stones had all been laid the day before (which had been huge work, but neatly done by a well-organised team of burly Rohirrim); all that had remained to do was to create the 'roof' of stones, and continue to dig the ditch, thus slowly covering the stone chamber until a barrow of some considerable size was formed. The turfs of grass and flowers had been cut before they had begun the work of the ditch and stone chamber, and lay in a neat pile to one side, ready to be carpeted over the barrow once it was done. The entrance to the chamber was tall enough that a man could enter, if he stooped a little, perhaps, and wide enough that two men could carry a bier down into the dark room the barrow housed.

Those within the camp were aware, even from first light, that there seemed to be more people coming and going along the path up to the gates than in the past couple of days, and that continued to be the case throughout the day. Many wagons laden with barrels, sacks and produce rolled by, no doubt in preparation for the feast that would start the following evening. On occasion, small groups of men, horsed and in all their finery, rode past the camp and up to the town; clearly they were lords and noblemen from the further reaches of the realm come to pay their last respects to their fallen King.

Above all, however, there was a growing sense of solemnity that even Penny was aware of. Those that passed by might have been talking, or even called an occasional greeting to any they saw at times, but it was all muted. Many fell completely silent the moment they laid eyes on the fresh mound of earth and the men still hard at work on it. Several bowed their heads, or even turned away slightly as if overcome.

As for Penny and the ellith, this day had apparently been declared washing day. It seemed inconceivable that they should wash their clothes (or themselves) on the several days of feasting to come, thus it was today or not at all. The former was easy enough, perhaps, but the latter less so. There had been some debate the previous evening as to where and how the logistics of bathing would take place. The elves, it seemed, refused point blank to even consider using bathing facilities within the city, as had been suggested at first. A wash in a stream or river was considered preferable to 'a stand-up wash with filthy water in an even filthier hovel' (as some of the less charitable amongst them had declared). However it had to be pointed out to such 'nay sayers' that the large valley in which Edoras was situated was well populated (even if the farmsteads and few villages were spread out somewhat) and that whatever expanse of free space might be found, it would be very open to the public.

In the end, tents were set up a mile from Edoras next to a large tributary of the Snowbourn. Buckets, bowls, jugs and a few large tubs were left in each, and communal washing could thus be had with the maximum of discretion but the minimum of disruption.

Of course the Rohirrim were by turns bemused, non-plussed and utterly baffled by it all.

Penny was amused to note that even as the logistics were explained over breakfast, before many of the Dunedain left for hunting in various groups with the Rohirrim, it was clear that many there felt they should also make some sort of effort. There were rumblings to the effect of 'not bothering with all the fuss and just going for swims in the first decent sized bit of river they encountered while they were out on the hunts as and when the mood took them,' but in the end many used the facilities set up by the elves on their return from hunting simply because it was easier.

Thus when Faelon, Arvain and Halladan came back to camp in late afternoon, their hair still damp, their clean clothes still clinging to them a little, they found Penny, Mireth and Eleniel sitting on the grass nearby with several blond-haired children running around them and all three females studiously trying not to look in the slightest bit amused by the idea of Dunedain succumbing to elvish bathing mores. The three men let it be known in no uncertain terms that they could stop smirking thank you very much, that even Dunedain felt the need to be clean on occasion.

"Did we say anything?" Penny turned to Mireth. "I do not believe we said a word, did we?"

"Not one word," Mireth shook her head rather too vigorously.

Eleniel spluttered, and covered her mouth quickly, turning away.

"We heard that!" Arvain called as he headed off towards the row of Dunedain tents.

At which point, Mireth, Penny and Eleniel could not help themselves and just fell about. It was a rare moment of jollity that Penny realised she had missed. Eleniel was, perhaps, not quite as subdued as the rest, if only because she was staying on with Arwen, but Mireth was really not herself, and Penny knew it.

Of course the incident at the washing stoop had not helped.

They had headed up there first thing after breakfast. It was near the top of the hill on Edoras, and Penny had not been the only one to comment on how busy, and yet how quiet, the town seemed. It was a hive of concentrated, if subdued, activity, with the streets busy with carts (and the horseshit hugely multiplied as a consequence), barrow-boys, messengers, women with baskets filled with newly baked things hidden by cloths but smelling quite delicious, all heading towards or hurrying from the Meduseld.

There had been several women of Rohan already at the stoop when they had arrived. Penny had been somewhat taken aback to realise one or two were washing dresses that she recognised as belonging to some of the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting. Indeed, the moment the women saw the ellith arrive, they had protested, in the kindest possible manner, insisting that they do the washing for the ellith. A polite struggle of wills had ensued, with some ellith graciously backing down, and others insisting that they were perfectly used to this sort of work and indeed enjoyed it. At the risk of causing offence, however, since the ladies of Rohan seemed really quite appalled at the idea that fine females such as they should stoop to thrash clothes on the paved slabs, most allowed their dresses to be washed for them. The few ellith that stayed insisted that they help since it was clearly too great a workload for the ladies to deal with even though reinforcements had been sent for the moment the ellith had arrived.

It was all quite a performance. Not least because many of the women and quite a few of the ellith (especially those from Lothlorien) spoke no Westron, so most of the protesting back and forth was done by a few from each side and even then had involved a lot of hand gestures.

Penny had noted that no one batted an eyelid about her washing her own clothes. She had not been quite sure whether to be offended by this or not.

Fairly soon, however, things had settled down, and indeed a rather happy, jovial atmosphere had developed. It always seemed to be the case, whether in Imladris, Lothlorien, Minas Tirith or here in Edoras: the washing-stoop was a place for chatter, gossip, songs and laughter.

Or at least, it was usually. Today was different.

Once or twice the hubbub and gales of giggling had got above a certain level and several windows around the courtyard that contained the stoop had been thrown open and sharp words spoken. Indeed, before long there had come the sound of heavy, booted footsteps and then a man, his expression grim and wearing clothes that even Penny could tell meant he was someone fairly important, had appeared round the corner to basically tell the women off.

He had then turned and bowed graciously to the nearest elleth and explained in Westron with a faintly apologetic, yet firm, tone.

"Please forgive us, but today is a day of mourning. Our fallen King lies in the Great Hall awaiting his time. His family is with him. His lords stand guard around him. Today is not a day for jokes and laughter."

Then he had bowed once more, turned on his heel and was off.

The ellith had been mortified and instantly apologetic that they had been the cause of any inappropriateness. The women reassured them that they had not been to blame, rather that they, the women, had forgot themselves.

After that the washing had been done in a strange, strained silence, with people talking only in quiet whispers. It also seemed no coincidental accident that one or two older women joined them at that point who seemed to have no washing of their own to do but saw to it to glare firmly at anyone who so much as raised their voice above a murmur.

Penny had it on good authority that that had remained the case throughout the day.

None of it had helped to lighten the already sombre mood in the elvish camp, and at lunch Penny had really missed the company of the Dunedain and of Halladan, Arvain and Faelon in particular.

There was no drinking or socialising in the Meduseld that night. Aside from the fact that Theoden was in there, as the night before the funeral ceremony it was not appropriate. Edoras was in mourning and in preparation for the following day. The guests kept a respectful distance, therefore, and quiet meals were had round campfires followed by a night without songs other than sad ones. It was as if everyone was determined to get 'in the mood.'

Even the Dunedain were quieter than usual, most sitting in silence round their fire, smoking and taking sips of ale. Penny found her mind wandering and dwelling on things that, with all the aftermath of her explosion with Elrond, worrying about Halladan let alone her decision of where to stay, she had had little time to think about. With the current mood it seemed strangely appropriate, for all it was upsetting.

Indeed, as she felt her emotions beginning to spiral out of control a little, she muttered an excuse and wandered away, not wishing to dissolve into tears in front of others and hoping a little walk might help to calm her, help to clear her head. After all, what was the point of getting upset about it all now?

And yet…

Tomorrow the great and good of Middle-earth would pay their last respects to one of the great Kings of their age, a hero, a fine and noble man. They would say goodbye; they would get 'closure' (much as it pained Penny to think of such a term).

And what of those Penny had left behind? What 'closure' was there for them?

In Minas Tirith it had dawned on her that she should mourn her family, that she had indeed lost them much as one loses someone who dies. She had had little time to grieve, or to think of doing so, but now, with everyone so quiet, so full of their own thoughts around her, it had seemed the most natural thing in the world to think also about what losses she had known.

Yet what actually hurt her most as she had sat at the fire, staring into the bright yellow tongues of flame as if mesmerised, was the sudden thought of her mother, what she must have gone through, must still be going through, how distraught, how worried she must be. That was the moment when Penny had felt she should leave the fire.

Did they think her dead? All sorts of things must have occurred to them. Did they think she was she wandering, lost and bewildered somewhere not knowing who she was or where she lived? Or lying naked and broken in a ditch, victim to some violent horror? She wondered if there had been a TV appeal, a reconstruction on 'Crimewatch', her picture on pieces of paper on lamp-posts and in the window of the local newsagents…

"Pen-ii?"

She did not turn. It was Halladan, come to see if she was alright, no doubt, but how could she even begin to express this, when his pain, his loss, his grief was that much worse than anything she would suffer? She just kept staring up at the dark line of the mountains against the stars. She did not even attempt to wipe away the tears falling slowly down her cheeks.

Halladan had hesitated behind her, perhaps sensing he might be interrupting something. He said her name once more, even more quietly, even more gently, and when she still said nothing he walked over to her, standing beside her for a moment looking out to the same line of mountains as she. He glanced sideways at her, taking in her silent sadness.

Then he simply put his arm about her shoulder, pulled her in towards him and said nothing, just held her till her cheeks were dry at last and with a heavy sigh and a murmured thank you she pulled away from him.

He did not ask what had been the matter. Either he realised she did not really want to talk about it, or suspected it was best left alone for the time being. Near enough everyone in the camp was in much the same state that night – lost in their own thoughts, burdened by whatever they might have suffered. It was not a night for being open and sharing. It was a night for quiet introspection, for grieving perhaps, for the simple comfort found in silent company, but nothing more. He simply asked her if she was coming back to the fire for a little while, which she did, letting him slowly walk beside her in silence. After a little while, though, she felt the best thing would be to crash out into unconsciousness, said her goodnights and headed off to her tent.

The following morning as she washed, Penny wondered what the 'form' was for funereal wear, not that she had many options available. It became clear, though, as she walked back to her bedroll and took in what the others were wearing, that finery was expected. Not to look gorgeous so much as to show respect. Thus Penny wore the same red dress she had worn at the wedding – it was the best she had – and her new shoes, as hand-made in Rohan. She allowed Mireth to do her hair and felt strangely disappointed when Mireth insisted on using a gold and pearl-encrusted hair tie rather than the basic one Halladan had made. It was understandable enough, perhaps, but Penny had grown quite attached to that hair tie in the couple of days she had been using it. For a brief moment she had even wondered if he would notice and feel slightly put out – a thought that she instantly dismissed as utterly ridiculous for all sorts of reasons.

Breakfast was perhaps the quietest meal yet. Few could help glancing at least once to the barrow, now with the turf laid out all over it, the stone entranceway facing west.

No sooner were the meals being packed away than several Rohirrim appeared in the camp, asking for various nobles to make their way up into Edoras so that they might form part of the processional behind the bier. This included, obviously, Elrond, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elladan and Elrohir as well as all the chief advisers and noteworthy elves of both Imladris and Lothlorien. Only ten or so of the most senior Dunedain were to ride behind Aragorn, as well as the most prominent nobles from Gondor. The rest would line the way from the gates of Edoras to the barrow along with many Rohirric warriors.

Penny was not sure why she felt surprised when Faelon, Halladan and Arvain were all included in those to join Aragorn. She knew Halbarad had been very high-ranking and well thought in terms of both character and lineage. It seemed that that had automatically been conferred onto his sons upon his death, a fact that up till now Penny had not really had an opportunity to fully appreciate. She felt faintly proud to know them so well as all three, dressed in the fine tunics they had had made for Aragorn's wedding, headed off to prepare their horses and make their way up to the Meduseld.

Soon enough after those to join the processional had left, it became clear people were arriving from the surrounding villages and farms. Those in the camp took that as their cue to also start making their way towards the barrow. Most stood in the field below it, thus leaving the way down to it free and also allowing themselves a view of the burial rites once they got underway.

Penny made her way with Mireth and Celebdor and stood with the elves. One Dunadan over breakfast, a little older than Arvain and apparently a second-cousin twice removed of theirs, had suggested she come and stand with the Dunedain during the proceedings. After all, he pointed out, this was a formal occasion and she was now officially one of their number now. He had been gently reminded, however, that those who would line the way would be warriors and all male. Female onlookers were to be amongst the crowds in the field below. The Dunadan seemed a little sheepish at that, both for not having thought of it himself and for possibly having embarrassed Penny, but she had reassured him and headed off to find Mireth.

Slowly men were filing out of the city, all horsed, all in full regalia – helmeted, carrying spear and shield – and beginning to line the way between the gate and the barrow till at last they were two or three horses thick on either side. The Dunedain joined them, again all horsed, and in their finest tunics, all with bows on their backs and swords on their hips.

Then horns sounded from somewhere within the city, most probably from the Meduseld itself. These were answered by others at the city gates, and then by still more from the barrow, and it was only then that Penny, by standing on tiptoes and squinting slightly, could see that two Rohirrim astride huge white stallions were already standing guard on either side of the entranceway to it, horns to their lips.

The horns did not stop immediately, but blew long, low mournful notes, one after the other till they melded into one, long wail that lasted for several minutes. Then everything fell silent. Even the crowd fell into a hushed, reverential quiet.

It took quite some time for the bier to appear. When it did so the silence seemed to become that much more profound, with no movement and no sound other than the faint tramp of the horses' hooves of those in the processional.

Leading the way, walking on foot, was a man, very simply dressed though with a long dark cloak about his shoulders and carrying a tall staff. He seemed elderly, had a long grey beard and carried himself with a proud dignity that in itself showed he was important, if only within this occasion. Behind him twelve men were carrying the bier, walking slowly. Placed on top of the cloth of gold covering Theoden were his shield, his sword and a spear. Following the bier were a group of women, Eowyn amongst them, all on foot, carrying various items either by hand on else born on cushions or golden platters. Although Penny could not make out every item in detail, it all shone and gleamed enough to make it clear much of it was golden and encrusted with jewels.

Behind them came the processional, all horsed to a man, with Eomer leading, Elfhelm and Erkenbrand on either side of him, and the Riders of the King's House, the King's personal guard, following immediately behind. In amongst them was a small figure on a pony, sitting as straight in his saddle as any there. Following the King's Riders came Gandalf with the rest of the Fellowship, Aragorn, Faramir, Imrahil along with those nobles from Gondor and the Dunedain who had been selected to join them, as well as the group of elves representing their peoples.

As the body of Theoden slowly made its way past the Rohirrim lining the way, each man lowered his spear till it was pointing at the ground. Several had standards, no doubt of their local noble family or region, and these too were lowered. The Dunedain, when the bier reached them, followed the others' example and bowed their heads one by one.

Still no one spoke.

At long last the bier reached the barrow, and for a time there was a pause as those in the processional either joined the ranks of those lining the way, or else crowded round the barrow itself. The highest ranking officials amongst the guests stayed near to Eomer by the quiet direction of one or two of the Rohirrim. That included the Fellowship, and Penny noted that both Frodo and Sam were in their full 'princeling outfits,' just as they had been at the wedding, and Pippin was proudly wearing his dark guard's tunic.

With some ceremony and slow decorum, Theoden was at last taken into the barrow while a long, low song was sung by a solitary voice somewhere in amongst the King's Riders. Then once those who had carried the bier had reappeared, one by one those who had followed on foot took into the barrow those items they had carried behind him, starting with Eowyn. Not only was Theoden to be buried with his sword, his shield and his spear but also with jewels, finely wrought daggers, golden jugs of mead and silver bowls of bread to sustain him on his journey into the darkness. It seemed that every region and family of note had sent either their finest item or had had something made that could be included in the barrow.

Theoden would be entombed surrounded by gold, fine inlay, cloths of exquisite beauty and much that any king could be proud of.

It was just as the men in the North had done of old, Penny thought, and she wondered how similar a ceremony the Dunedain themselves might still practice or if this was a long-dead ritual they recognised only from legend. It was possible something similar might have been given to Halbarad and she found herself wondering whether he too had been buried with his sword upon his breast, his horse beside him. She made a point to ask someone. She was not sure why, but she felt it was important that she know. She hoped it was the case.

When the last of them had come out of the barrow, Eomer began to speak. He did not turn his horse, but though he faced the barrow the entire time, his voice carried clear in the light breeze. His speech was long and in Rohirric, so Penny only got a vague translation later, but it was clear even then that he spoke of his uncle in terms that were both moving and filled with honour since many amongst the Rohirrim broke down and wept, not even trying to hide their tears.

Once Eomer had finished, the bearded man who had led the funeral procession stepped forward, placing his staff on the still open entrance way and said some low incantation that Penny could not hear but was clearly meant to be an impressive and an important part of the ceremony given the reverent silence that fell. Then he stepped back, nodding his head to four men who stood nearby and now stepped forward to place a huge stone in place to block the entrance.

Only once it was in place did the Riders of the King's House form a circle about the barrow and start to sing, slowly encircling it all the while. It was a long, slow song, and Penny knew what it was without having to be told, knew it was the last song the King's minstrel would ever write, that it had been written for this occasion. Men wept openly then once more. No one stopped Merry from dismounting from his saddle and crossing to the barrow, where he knelt by the doorway and sobbed quietly into his hands.

As the men's voices rose higher, clearer, Penny looked about her and could see she was not the only one touched by all this, that all were visibly moved, even the elves. She had tried to look out for Halladan and the others, but they were on the far side of the barrow and she could not make them out. She only hoped Halladan was not finding this all too emotionally difficult.

At the barrow, many lingered after the men had finished their song at last. Merry had finally got to his feet, even as Pippin had come over to him to comfort him, while others stood at the barrow, heads bowed in prayer or silent contemplation. Gandalf had gone to the doorway and repeated the actions of the bearded man, speaking in a low voice, his mouth close to the stones, as if to Theoden himself. Many of the women were weeping, their voices louder than the song had been; several had to be physically calmed by those around them, clearly overwhelmed by memories of whatever personal loss they had suffered.

As for Penny, as she had listened uncomprehendingly to the men singing, she had found herself overcome at last. She wept, like many there, and not only for Theoden but for them all, for every single one who had fallen, for Halbarad, for Hirvell, for Boromir, and for the countless others who had given everything they had in that last savage push against the darkness. She wept for all she herself had lost, for those she had left behind and for her own personal grief. She wept for all that had been marred in this world, all that it had already lost and still would lose once the elves were gone; she wept for all those left widowed, for all those who had seen their loved ones die in front of them, for those whose lives were shattered and might never recover. She wept for Hiluin and for Halladan, for every man of Rohan who had come home to a burnt-out house, to dead children and a brutalised, butchered wife. She wept for what she knew was still to come, for the hobbits and the scouring of The Shire, for the pain and suffering Elrond would have to bear after bidding his only daughter farewell forever. She wept till she was not even sure why she was weeping anymore.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Aranarth called himself 'Chieftain' rather than 'King' since he had witnessed the fall of his father's (King Arvedui of Arthedain) realm to the attacks of the Witchking of Angmar. His father fled north and was lost on board a ship sent by Cirdan to rescue him in the icy northern seas. It is not stated if Aranarth joined the Gondorian Prince Earnur when he marched from Lindon against the Witchking, but it seems both likely and safe to assume so, which is what I have done. Aranarth was the first to foster his son and heir with Elrond (Arahael), an act no doubt borne of the fact of the loss of the Kingdom and the scattered nature of their people – the world was not as safe and their people not as strong as they had been. Arahael then did the same with his firstborn son, and so on through the generations down to Arathorn and Aragorn.

I have tried to base the construction of the barrow and aspects of the burial ritual (though much is, obviously, pure poetic licence) on what is known from archaeological digs here in the UK, both Anglo-Saxon and Norse (ones that were pagan and didn't involve burning, that is). Not all fit this situation exactly, so this is an amalgam of various points as well as using the similarity of barrow-burials as a practice to that practised of old by the Numenoreans in Arnor (as the hobbits discovered, of course).


	42. Farewells and Feasting

This chapter and the following one were conceived as 'a whole', in that I had intended for the events they cover to take up one chapter but, as ever, things ran away with me so I've had to divide it all into two. And, yes, this does mean (barring a crisis) the next chapter will not be long in coming (for once, I hear you cry).

ETA - For some reason if I look at this chapter this morning the page is not loading fully. (Thwaps ff dot net) Please remember if you have having the same problem this fic is also posted at Stories of Arda and Open Scrolls Archive so you can read this chapter there.

* * *

**Chapter 42** – _"Farewells and Feasting"_

Penny walked back to the camp with Mireth's arm about her shoulder and her own about Mireth's waist, her head resting against her shoulder. Mireth was not the only one there to have been much moved by the ceremony and Penny was thankful that her own bout of tears had not seemed extraordinary in the least, certainly not compared to some of the wailing of the women of Rohan that could still be heard on the breeze behind them.

The funeral itself had taken all the morning and was still not completely over given the amount of people still walking up to the barrow, some singing, some crying quietly, others walking round it in a determined fashion perhaps mimicking the actions of the Riders of the King's House in some way. The personal farewells would take some time yet, it seemed.

It was, technically, lunchtime if not a little after, but few had any appetite. Besides, come early evening the feasting would begin.

When Mireth had gently touched Penny's arm and suggested they get back to the camp, the maelstrom of emotions, the impetus to weep that had engulfed Penny like a wave, was already leaving her almost as suddenly as it had arrived. It had left her feeling strangely numb: neither distressed nor grieving anymore, just filled with a weird, heavy, empty stillness in which she was barely aware of anything around her. She did not take in what, if anything, Mireth said to her as they walked back to the camp or who else might have walked with them. She just felt exhausted, drained. So much so, indeed, that once they had arrived and Mireth had left her in their tent, Penny lay down on her bedroll and quickly fell asleep.

It was a couple of hours later when Mireth came and gently shook her awake, saying they needed to get ready to head up to the Meduseld. Penny felt a little groggy but also, as she dressed and let Mireth tidy her hair, not so much numb anymore as calm. She still felt sad – her thoughts of the night before were still haunting her – but not nearly so upset and overwhelmed by them. The tears of the previous night and again this morning had clearly been somewhat cathartic, an unburdening, a means by which she could confront her situation and find some release for the pain it caused her to do so. It was strangely comforting to know she was not the only person currently confronting loss and change right now, even if others were doing so for many different reasons and none of them quite matching her own.

That said she was not looking forward to the feast. All she really wanted right now was to be alone, to sit and think and mourn, not to socialise and look vaguely interested. She wondered how soon she might reasonably be able to leave.

She also wondered how much, if anything, she would actually be able to risk eating.

Those who had been in the processional had been back in the camp for quite some time. As Penny and Mireth left the tent, Penny saw the little group standing about and talking in quiet murmurs nearby and realised that they had likely enough all been waiting for her to get her backside in gear.

While Celebdor took Mireth by the hand and lead them all off, Arvain and Lindir made comments to the effect of being glad to see Penny up and about at last and Faelon smiled warmly at her, apologising for having had to send Mireth in to disturb her rest but that it really was time to 'shake a leg and get a move on.' All three were clearly trying to make light of the situation and jolly her up a little.

The one person Penny most wanted to talk to or have some indication of how he was doing after the ceremonials (and whether he felt quite as peculiar and shattered by it as she did) simply managed to nod his head in her direction by way of greeting without actually looking her in the eye.

Which probably told her all she needed to know.

She wondered if he was looking forward to all this as little as she was. Probably even less, she suspected. The first opportunity she had to catch his eye she gave him what she hoped would come across as a reassuring smile and she was pleased to see he returned it.

They walked up to the Meduseld together as a group though in truth the entire camp was slowly emptying so they ended up forming part of a steady stream or large ambling crowd that was heading upwards towards the city. The mood amongst everyone was still a little subdued, but Penny did not feel quite so unsettled by it as she had even the day before. Indeed she and Lindir chattered away almost like old times. However as they passed by the barrow, two torches on either side of the entrance that would be lit the moment darkness fell and remain lit for the three days the wake would last, all conversation died and they, and those around them, continued their walk up to the gates in near silence.

Once inside Edoras, however, it was clear that the atmosphere was slowly changing both from the day before and even earlier that morning. Yes, it was still busy and yes, there was still a sombre feel to it all, as if people were talking in hushed undertones, trying to limit their laughter, and generally keep the noise down, but it did not seem nearly as oppressive as it had done. Indeed, as they neared the top of the hill and the Meduseld, they could hear the low hum of a crowd talking and chattering, even before they entered the large courtyard.

The sight that greeted them was quite something.

The entire courtyard in front of the Meduseld was filled with tables, chairs and benches, many with awnings stretched over the top of them which were tied onto lengths of rope that were strung across the space. The Meduseld itself was, of course, massive and could house a huge number of people, but this wake was to be for all who would wish to attend, and that included all the townspeople and many from elsewhere in Rohan, let alone all the guests from the camp. There were several hundred people to be fed, watered, and in some cases housed, for the next three days. For a feast this grand and spectacular the Meduseld alone was not enough.

There were already many people there, most of them locals, taking their seats, deep in conversation. While there was still the sense that, yes, a momentous and sad event had occurred that morning, the sheer fact of this many people together meant the atmosphere was more genial than one might have expected. Already ale was being served, and on one side of the courtyard the ground floors of several houses had been set aside to store and prepare the food needed to serve those in the courtyard. Women and serving boys were beetling back and forth from the houses with trays of tankards and jugs.

Later in the evening barrels would be rolled out into the courtyard, taps sunk into them and people left to help themselves, but in the meantime there was some sense of order and decorum, although the number of children and dogs currently running in and out of the tables (much as the adults tried to stop them) meant it inevitably was limited to some extent. One got the distinct impression, however, that the outside proceedings would be a tad more raucous than whatever occurred inside the Meduseld (for tonight at least).

Penny and the others joined the steady stream of lords, ladies and elves – those who were considerably better and richer dressed than most of those in the courtyard – making their way up the stairs to the great double doors of the Golden Hall.

The stench inside the Meduseld was much as Penny remembered it, but the atmosphere was very different from the last time she had been here. Many were already seated but any talking was being done only in low murmurs. In the gloom of the torchlight it all seemed terribly sombre and especially so compared to the courtyard outside.

Penny turned to say something to Mireth, intending to ask her once more for reassurance about what she should or should not eat (the latter list being far longer than the former, it had be said), only to find she, Celebdor and Lindir had moved away, Lindir towards the end of a table nearest the top table that, just as last time, was placed horizontally across the Hall directly in front of the dais that held the king's throne.

In that same moment Penny found herself being ushered forward by the three Dunedain towards a row of tables near the middle of the Hall, and, to her consternation, not only that but towards the end nearest the top table (thus mirroring Lindir's actions on the other side of the Hall). It appeared that all the Dunedain were to be seated together in one group, and as men of honour in their own right, by virtue of their own lineage, their being kinsmen of King Elessar himself, let alone their own already infamous feats during the War, they were to be positioned very well indeed in terms of the complex hierarchy of Meduseld seating arrangements.

Penny felt proud, honoured and hugely embarrassed to be included amongst them in equal measure.

Even so, she hesitated as they reached the two or three large, long tables set aside for them all, wary of sitting too close to the top table and thus in a position that, irrespective of whoever her guardians might be, she knew she did not deserve. It was barely a second's pause and she had no time to voice her concern let alone even properly define it in her own head when without hesitation Arvain took his seat there and then where she stood, gesturing for her to sit beside him while Halladan sat on the other side of her. That Faelon continued on and sat very near to the top table told Penny that, were she not with them, Arvain and Halladan would likely have been seated in a similar position.

"Should you not go and sit with…?"

"No, no. Here is just fine, I think. Do you not agree, Halladan?"

"Absolutely. Ah… and here comes the ale. Good, good."

Penny was somewhat surprised by how breezy Halladan sounded, and did give him a curious glance, trying to gauge how much of it might be false bravado, but was interrupted by the arrival of their cousin and various other Dunedain who came to sit opposite them.

Soon enough the hall was full and, as the drinking got underway and food slowly began to appear, a very long ballad, part spoken, part sung, began. It took nearly the entire meal to tell and many there seemed either captivated or else considered it of enough importance (or perhaps so much an essential part of the ritual of the proceedings) that they remained relatively quiet throughout.

Since drinking the water was out of the question, Penny allowed herself some of the ale – only one mug, though, and she made it last as long as possible – since it had been agreed that the fermentation should have killed most things in the water. Mireth (and Penny) had been worried about the possible state of cleanliness of the tankards or cups, however, so Mireth had given Penny a small cloth to wipe them with (since simply washing it out with water would have been less than useless and defeated the object entirely).

Penny's sleeves were too loose, she had no pockets, and wore no belt, so in the end Mireth had suggested Penny keep it tucked into her neckline under the edge of her undershift.

It was only when it dawned on Penny, too late, that she was now seated entirely surrounded by men that she realised her mistake and instantly regretted taking Mireth's advice. Thus when a pewter tankard was placed in front of her, and while Halladan was pouring ale out to all his neighbours, she tried to get the cloth out as surreptitiously as she could, trying to hide what one hand was doing by covering it nonchalantly with the other.

Once removed and she went to wipe the mug, however, she noticed a raised eyebrow being thrown in her direction from the cousin sitting opposite her and that Halladan seemed to be terribly interested in a wallhanging above his cousin's head all of a sudden.

He also seemed to be waiting to fill her mug.

He had probably got the surprise of his life as he had turned to pour her some ale and found her with her hand stuffed down her cleavage.

Penny silently cursed Mireth under her breath and tried to look as unconcerned as possible, as if what she had just done was a perfectly normal everyday occurrence.

"Interesting what things women can keep tucked away in extraordinary places, do you not think, brother?"

"Shut up, Arvain."

Arvain held out a hand for the cloth.

"Shall I look after that for you, Pen-ii? Might be better tucked into my belt than… elsewhere."

Penny tried to look gracious and unembarrassed as she handed the cloth over while kicking him in the ankle under the table. Arvain just grinned at her.

Penny was very careful with the food, as per Mireth's instructions and her own all-pervading paranoia. Even though several dishes did look delicious, she resisted the temptation 'just in case', though she did risk some very well-roasted venison that Halladan reckoned should be safe enough. Otherwise she basically stuck to fruit she could peel – two apples and a pear. She did turn to Arvain to ask for her cloth back to wipe the knife in front of her before she started but he just rolled his eyes and took his own knife from out of its scabbard on his belt and handed it to her.

The Dunedain then watched with some amusement as she tried to peel an apple with what was actually an elvish dagger. After the third time of the knife slipping and nearly taking the top of her thumb off, Halladan gently took both apple and knife from her.

"Here. Let me. You will be at it all night and have several digits missing at the end of it if you carry on like that. Did no one ever teach you how to use a knife?"

"A knife, yes; a dagger to peel fruit, no."

There were quiet chuckles at that. Since in the wild Dunedain kept what they had to carry to an absolute minimum, one-size knife fitted all – it had to. However, even they had to admit that Penny had a point when she said she felt sure they did not use their knives for peeling fruit while sat in the middle of a spinney somewhere. Such delicate niceties were hardly the staple of your average Dunadan's way of life, and especially not whilst out on patrol for weeks on end.

After the meal an even lengthier ballad-like story was told. No space was made for dancing – it was hardly appropriate to the proceedings - rather everyone stayed seated as they were, drinking and listening to the tale being told in a sonorous voice and with much enthusiasm by the man who stood near the top table, gesticulating every now and then, his voice carrying far with the superb acoustics of the huge arching roof above him.

Most seemed enthralled. A few chatted quietly (_very_ quietly) here and there – mainly those who did not speak Rohirric and found it hard to keep their concentration for that long on something they really could not make much sense of.

Every now and then the orator would reach a particularly well-known passage and at such moments several voices round the Hall would join in, either in low murmurs as if those reciting it were muttering it to themselves almost absent-mindedly, or else out loud, even once or twice the men in question standing suddenly, as if carried away with the drama and emotion of it all, tankards in one hand, the other on their breasts.

Clearly whatever this tale was, it was one that the Rohirrim were terribly proud of, one that was much loved and considered a Great Tale worthy of being recited at the wake of a Great King.

Penny amused herself by looking round the Hall and seeing who was where and who she recognised. Legolas and Gimli were on the top table, of course, not only as members of the Fellowship but also as those who had earned great honour in the eyes of the Rohirrim by fighting alongside them at Helm's Deep. Frodo and Sam looked rather uncomfortable at the top table, it had to be said, Sam in particular, but they certainly seemed to appreciate the Rohirric ale and had an entire jug to themselves.

The rest of the Hall was a little too gloomy in parts, what with the gathering dusk and the smoky torches, for Penny to see too far or too well. That and, of course, many had their backs to her given seating was on both sides of the long rows of tables stretching the length of the Meduseld. She caught Eleniel's eye, who smiled and nodded in her direction, and that of Naurdir and his wife who was sitting fairly near to her. She could recognise one or two of the Rohirrim and Gondorians she had got to know during her few weeks travelling and had just spotted Fimorndír when she realised who was sitting next to him. Corunir actually had the cheek to not simply look straight at her but also to smile and incline his head in a manner that struck her as entirely too familiar and friendly. Penny glared at him and quite deliberately turned her head away.

If, as she had been looking round the room, a certain young Rohirric lord had studiously avoided her gaze and tried to make it seem like he had not even seen her let alone recognised her, she did not notice.

At last, and it really did seem like an hour had passed (at least), the reciter's voice faded into silence. The murmurs round the Hall slowly rose to a dull rumble of quiet chatter for a few minutes. That it quickly became quieter once more, however, meant something else was happening of import, and the guests turned this way and that to see what might be up.

Eowyn had stepped forward bearing a cup.

Penny had not even noticed her leave her seat from the high table where she had been seated between Arwen and Faramir. Now, however, she was making her way slowly towards the top table carrying a golden goblet inlaid with pearls and jewels. She placed it in front of Eomer, bowing her head a little as she did so, and he smiled, reaching for it, and inclining his head in response by way of thanks.

Then another, older bard than the one who had just entertained them all stepped forward and this time Penny knew what he was going to say. Indeed, it was she who whispered to Halladan that what would follow would be a list of the kings buried in the barrows outside.

It was done with great solemnity and clear pride. You could have heard a pin drop, so silent did the Hall become at that point. Even the guests, for all they might not have understood the language, understood enough to know that this was an important part of the ceremonials.

When at last the bard had finished, Eomer stood, insisting that all there had their cups and tankards charged. There was a pause then as serving women and boys rushed about checking everyone had ale, wine or mead that needed it. When at last the bustling had come to an end, Eomer took them all in for a moment, then held the golden goblet high with one hand and loudly toasted Theoden King.

The echo with which his words were repeated indicated that not only had the toast been repeated in the Hall but that even down in the courtyard they were following his lead. They might not have heard the bard, but the doors were open to the Hall (if only to try and get some air in and smoky fug out) and word had spread that the toast was coming.

It was their final formal farewell.

The rest of the evening passed in the telling of tales and the singing of long, slow, sad songs (with the emphasis on the long). Indeed the entire point of the evening seemed to be these recitals (and drinking) rather than anything else. People did walk about a bit to stretch their legs or to go and talk to others in the Hall (at which point Frodo and Sam seem quite relieved to be able to escape the top table and join Merry and Pippin who were nearby), but again all in subdued murmurs and little laughter above a chuckle. Most there simply listened to the ballads and tales.

As the evening progressed more and more people began to join in, singing in progressively louder voices, or to even cheer certain parts of heroic tales and shout exclamations by which to punctuate the stories. For the most part, however, it was clear the focus of the evening was to remember the fallen heroes of old, that by so doing they might honour the memory of Theoden.

In some ways Penny was very glad it was all in Rohirric, and she wondered if Halladan was too. He was surrounded by his own kin, able to happily ignore most of what was being sung or recited round him. It probably made things slightly easier for him than it might otherwise have been.

That said, even if the mood was perhaps less sombre than it had been, it was still fairly intensely dark for all there was the odd shout or cheer. It was clear that the night would be a long one and much fuelled by alcohol. Indeed many would actually sleep in the Hall that night and for the few days that the feast lasted. Such was the tradition, but also there was not really anywhere else to put them.

As yet another slow song started up about fallen dead heroes giving their lives up in some great battle or other, Penny felt she really could not cope with anymore. Many of the Dunedain had left to talk with Rohirrim, Gondorians or elves. Similarly others had come to join their table. Thus when Penny muttered something about getting back to the camp it was Celebdor who said he would walk her back.

"Mireth was thinking of leaving soon also," he explained. "I shall fetch her. We can all go together."

Penny was already standing. Halladan, who had spotted her from where he was further down the table deep in conversation with a large Rohirrim who was missing his left arm from the elbow, came over to her. When he ascertained she was leaving he said he would also join her also. Penny did not try and insist he stay. She could see from the look in his eyes he was relieved to have an excuse to get the heck away from it all.

Mireth had been chatting quietly in a corner with Arwen, Eleniel, Eowyn, some of the Gondorian ladies-in-waiting and a small group of ladies of Rohan. When Celebdor explained the situation, Arwen, overhearing, looked up, managed to catch Halladan's eye and beckoned the pair of them over whereupon she insisted on re-introducing Penny to Eowyn. Apparently Eowyn had been asking after Penny when they had first arrived and had been most pleased to hear she had made a full recovery.

"I am sorry I have not had a chance to visit you in the camp," she said in her heavily accented Westron.

Penny managed to get out a clumsy response in faltering Westron to the effect that she need not apologise, that she knew she had been very busy, and besides she was honoured enough simply in knowing that Eowyn had remembered her and asked after her.

"You much honour are giving me," she said, inclining her head.

The smile Eowyn gave Penny by way of reply was very warm and genuine.

As Penny turned to leave, Arwen stayed her briefly, standing and taking her to one side.

"I have had little opportunity to see you since Estel told me what you had decided. I am glad, Pen-ii, just as my father is glad on your behalf. You will be well cared for amongst the Dunedain. They are a people I know well, indeed that I love well."

And she smiled a really rather interesting smile, in which the eyes spoke far more than her words or even her expression might, and Penny knew the glance she had just flicked across Penny's shoulder was in Aragorn's direction.

The following day the feast was not due to recommence until the afternoon. The morning was spent by the Rohirrim in preparing yet more food, getting more barrels in position, sweeping out the Hall and generally getting things in readiness for yet another prolonged drinking session.

With not much else to do, therefore, most of the guests in the camp stayed put reading, catching up on sewing, boot mending or oiling bows and the like. When the time came to head up to the Meduseld, Penny felt in a better humour than the day before. For all the elves seemed ever more quiet and reserved as the time to leave Arwen marched ever closer, the Dunedain were on their usual good form and the morning had seemed comparatively normal, certainly compared to the previous day, and that had served her in good stead.

As they passed through the gates, Halladan, Faelon and another Dunadan were in deep discussion with Lindir about songs and specifically trying to determine the choice of a song to be sung that night.

Penny looked at Arvain with furrowed brows.

"There have been invitations from the king for one or more of those amongst us to sing or recite something. The Rohirrim had their turn last night, with the best bard or musician from each area, family or tribe performing something by way of giving honour and paying tribute to the dead king and all the fallen of the War, and there will be more of it tonight it seems. It has been suggested that the Gondorians might wish to recite or sing something that is of their tradition, perhaps some from Minas Tirith and some from Dol Amroth, and the same has been suggested of the elves and us also. There are many hours to fill, of course, but it is also a great honour to be able to make a small contribution to their custom of honouring the dead in this way." He indicated the four males ahead of them. "They are discussing which might be the most suitable choice. Faelon is likely as not to be the one to do it as amongst the most senior of us and someone who is well known for his story-telling, though he is trying to protest he had too much ale last night and is not in good voice this evening. Lindir has suggested a particular ballad that he himself wrote about the wars of our ancestors with the Witchking of Angmar, but Halladan insists it should be a song or tale traditional to the Dunedain that we ourselves wrote and have handed down through the generations, and I have to say I agree."

"Lindir should sing his own song himself," Penny replied.

"You hear that, Lindir?" Faelon suddenly flung an arm behind him. "Even Pen-ii agrees."

"Yes, but I had already decided upon…" Lindir smiled and shook his head. "Oh, what does it matter? Yes, yes, you are right. What has been asked for is for each to represent their people in a manner fitting to their custom."

Faelon did sing in the end. It was after the meal and actually from the direct prompting of Aragorn that he stood at last, not looking in the least bit sheepish but in fact proud to be the one to do it, and certainly not in poor voice as he had tried to claim earlier.

Penny listened to him with pride. She was not sitting near him at the time. The seating had been less rigid this evening (so the Dunedain were not all together in one large bunch like the night before) and no sooner was the meal finished than people roamed about quite freely given the atmosphere was not quite as sombre as the night before, if still relatively subdued still. Thus when Faelon had stood up, Penny had been sitting to one side of the Golden Hall with Lindir, Eleniel, Arvain, Rhimlath and a few Dunedain, Gondorians and Rohirrim. She recognised the song he sang as one she had heard the Dunedain sing once or twice before now while travelling from Gondor and several of them joined in at parts, even Halladan and Arvain.

Lindir sang, of course, as did a group of ellith and ellyn from Lothlorien who sang as a choir and whose voices were so astonishingly beautiful that Penny could see many of the men there moved to tears to hear them, and they were soon followed by Legolas who sang a song mourning the huge loss Mirkwood had suffered in the War of the Last Alliance which clearly had been written by a survivor soon after returning home.

Merry and Pippin sang a duet in their native hobbit Westron which was so close to Rohirric that most there understood it in large part. Hobbits being a people with little experience of war they had chosen a song about the passing of the fruits of autumn into the coldness of winter and how spring seemed so very far away – it seemed very appropriate.

They were soon followed by Gimli, who proved himself to have a very fair baritone. Even Rhimlath also got to his feet at one point, but was hastily pulled back down again by several near him, much to his fury. Two lords of Gondor, both well-known for performing, stood one after the other, one to sing a song, the other to recite a long piece of epic poetry. Nor were they the only ones.

Of course it was still largely a Rohirric affair (as was only right and proper). The sporadic and occasional contributions from the guests were interspersed amongst the various ones from the Rohirrim and while some of the guests' songs were long, none were ever as long and involved as anything the Rohirrim had to offer.

There was no particular order to it all, either. The general form seemed to be that you simply waited for the pause after a song or recitation had ended and, if no one else had started, you stood and did your piece. If you noticed someone else had also stood up, then decorum dictated that you should indicate that they should go ahead while you sat down again to wait your turn once more (unless they 'out-polited' you by sitting down first, that was).

Occasionally Eomer might loudly ask 'for a song or recitation from one of our guests' if he felt there had been one too many contributions from his own people and too long had gone without a little variation. It had been on just such an occasion that Aragorn had leant forward and said Faelon's name very loudly, gesturing for him to stand and take the opportunity to do the Dunedain proud (which he did, of course).

As Penny listened to them all, aware that most of the topics were much like the previous night – about warrior heroes, loss, battle and death – she began to find the same feelings welling within her that had been troubling her the past day or two.

She felt as they did, she told herself: she shared their grief in several respects. After all had she not also lost, albeit in circumstances entirely alien to that which they were thinking of? She was aware too of an acute sense of unworthiness in the face of it all. Not in the sense of self-loathing or self-pity, but rather as anyone who is truly ordinary might feel when faced with heroes who are themselves declaring others to be even more heroic than they.

Penny had, it must be admitted, allowed herself two tankards of ale this evening, if only because she had felt so well on just the one the previous night that she had felt she could probably risk it to no ill effect. She was not drunk, far from it, but it was affecting her judgement and certainly contributing to the rising tide of emotion beginning to swell within her.

Everyone there was contributing something, or having something contributed on their behalf, she was telling herself, and that was only right. It was only proper that they should do so. These dead, who had given their all, they deserved it. The Rohirrim were an honourable people and deserved such courtesy, such respect, as did their king. All had made that gesture towards Eomer, to his people, to Theoden, and by extension, to all who had died and all who had lost in this War, and what had she done? She who was, in effect, alone in representing her people, her time. She who alone knew the sacrifice those men had made meant that the future thought Sauron so distant a thing as to have never have existed at all. She who alone represented all those many people who knew of this story, had loved and admired it and the people within it, who had been in awe of the heroism, the loss, all that had been suffered in that cause. She who was herself grieving, who felt so deeply for those whom she had seen suffering around her, who had known and cared for one who had himself been cut down…

It was perhaps unfortunate that the Rohirric lord somewhere behind her chose exactly that moment to bring his lengthy tale of Helm to an end and sat down to much back-slapping and appreciative offers of ale from his friends. There was a pause that seemed to extend into a minute or two. Penny could feel the nerves tightening in her stomach, in fact could not actually feel her hands, as she slowly stood up.

She tried to ignore the bit of her brain that was screaming at her and asking her what in Hell's name she thought she was doing. She just tried to focus on the fact that somehow, with every fibre of her being, however scary, however stupid, indeed however much of a prize arse she was about to make of herself, this was the right thing to do. She was the only one here from her people. Everyone else was making an effort, and so should she. The bottom line was that if she did not do this she would kick herself forever afterwards, and especially if anyone came up to her and, albeit jokingly, asked her why she had not sung something in her own native tongue.

She still could not believe she was going to do this, though.

Judging from the faces of those around her, neither could they.

"Pen-ii?"

Lindir said her name in some surprise, exchanging looks with Arvain and Eleniel, as if unsure if she really meant to do what he thought she meant to do. Perhaps she was feeling unwell, or wanted to head down to the camp, or be shown a latrine?

But the look on her face (much like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a juggernaut), the tense wringing of her hands and the nervous clearing of the throat alternated with swallowing told them the truth of it. She also had that determined air that told them there would be no stopping her (but then that is Rohirric ale for you).

Thanks to Lindir's incessant nagging at her on the journey south, Penny had got into the habit of making a mental note of any song that came to her that might be suitable for public broadcast in terms of tune and lyrics and, perhaps most importantly, to which she could remember all (or most) of the words. Over the past couple of months, therefore, she had built up a potential repertoire of half a dozen songs 'just in case.'

Of course, since they had left Gondor there had been no one asking her for songs, but she knew it was only a matter of time – once the weird atmosphere that had first oppressed the humans in the camp and then moved on to the elves had lifted – before the prods, the nudges and the gentle cajoling started once more. That was the way of things here – everyone was expected to sing something at some point or recite a poem and it seemed strange for someone to be so reluctant. It was a normal part of an evening's entertainment. Penny had had to learn that no one would think less of her, or even care terribly much about the song itself or the state of her voice. That was not the point. That she had already sung many songs to Lindir as they had travelled had helped her overcome her nerves somewhat, but still…

She tried not to think about it.

Instead, before anyone sitting next to her could stop her, she turned slightly so she was at least facing the top table, stared at a point somewhere on the wall way above the throne, opened her mouth and just hoped she would start on a reasonable note so she would not have to squeak the high note in the second stanza.

Even as Arvain rested his hand on her arm and he opened his mouth to suggest she might want to reconsider, she started to sing.

She focused on the words. It helped to take her mind of the fact that, as she sang and people elsewhere in the Hall who knew her realised who was singing, and those who did not know her personally realised that she was 'that woman who travelled with the elves all alone, yes, the one who got sick and nearly died and speaks no Westron', the Meduseld was getting quieter and quieter. That it was immediately clear that she was singing in a tongue so foreign to them all that it had to be her own only added to their interest.

Everyone on the top table was watching her with a mixture of surprise and intense curiosity. Elrond had been about to take a sip of wine when she had stood up and for the first few lines of her song his cup remained frozen in mid-air. He glanced to Erestor seated beside him and as Erestor murmured in his ear, no doubt translating what he could catch of the meaning, Elrond slowly lowered his cup, the look of alarm on his face slowly changing to one of astonishment and then something akin to approval.

Halladan, seated next to Faelon on the table across from Penny and Arvain, had actually touched Faelon by the arm the moment he had seen Penny get to her feet. Faelon, mid-sentence, had turned to see what it was that had caught Halladan's attention and then, much like Halladan, had stared in astonishment as this rather hesitant voice had quavered out of Penny. It had been quiet too at first, but it got a little louder as Penny realised that now that she had started she had better finish and also try and do the best job she could of it. That she glanced down to find Lindir giving her an encouraging smile helped too, of course.

The moment she got to the third stanza, though, she felt the emotion begin to well up inside her once more. As she had listened to the others singing, realising that, frankly, she felt she was letting the side down by not doing_ something_, she had mulled over what might be an appropriate song for the situation, and in the end it was only because the song had suddenly come to her that she had got the courage to stand at all.

Yes, "Danny Boy" was clichéd, cheesy and so well known as to elicit groans from people in her own time - a song done to death, frankly - but as she had run through the options of songs she had squirreled away for possible public performance, the lyrics of this particular song were the most appropriate of any that she could think of: a young woman bidding farewell to her young love, a soldier, who is called away to war, and she promises she will wait for him no matter how long it might be while telling him to come back soon.

But as she sang of the woman warning her love that he might return only to find her dead and how he should then find her grave to tell her that he loves her, she wondered how many of the warriors there in the Meduseld had had to do exactly that; she remembered too what she had done herself for Halbarad, even considered how her mother would never be able to do the same for her though she no doubt thought her dead… Well, it was perhaps only natural for her voice to waver and hitch slightly at that point.

Everyone heard it and realised whatever she sang of was touching her deeply, that it clearly related very closely to matters about which they themselves had already sung or spoken of and the very purpose of the wake itself. Indeed, as Erestor and Gandalf, both able to understand the sense of what she was singing (albeit in very general terms), leaned to those next to them and whispered an explanation, those they spoke to looked back at Penny with something akin to sympathy and understanding in their gaze. Those nearest her could see the tears in her eyes, knew that whatever she sang of was sincerely meant in just the same manner as everyone else before her had sung.

As a consequence, far from being considered a fool as she had feared, many were touched and some were even moved. That she was the only human female to have stood up (let alone the only female to have stood and sung alone) was either instantly forgiven or put down to her having already shown herself to be 'not exactly normal' before now and so it was nothing unusual in that respect.

She sat down to stunned silence from those immediately around her and quiet, appreciative (if surprised) murmurs from the rest of the Hall (though with a few raised eyebrows and disapproving sniffs from a number of places nonetheless). She wiped a stray tear that had found its way onto her cheek and hung her head in some embarrassment and awkwardness, feeling that while she had done what she had felt she had to do, she also hoped everyone would forget it had ever happened as quickly as possible.

Frankly that was expecting a lot, and she knew it.

It was Eleniel who spoke first.

"That was quite lovely, Pen-ii. It took a lot of courage and you did well."

She reached across the table to take Penny's hand, and Penny felt such gratitude to her for that simple gesture.

"The song certainly seemed appropriate in tone, and you showed much pathos," Lindir agreed, "but I do have to wonder what in Arda possessed you."

Eleniel glared at him but Lindir opened out his hands in a gesture that both asked her what on earth she was upset about and also that he made no apologies.

"What? It was a somewhat extraordinary moment, Eleniel, you have to admit!"

Arvain nodded as he glanced at Penny.

"I cannot believe you did that."

He was nothing if not honest but his tone of voice showed astonishment, perhaps even slight amusement, rather than disapproval. He added a smile to indicate he meant it in a supportive, friendly way rather than anything else.

"Neither can I, to tell you the truth." Penny looked up at him, then at Lindir. "I… I just felt I _had_ to. Everyone else's people has paid their respects, and I… I just felt obligated to make a contribution on behalf of my own."

Lindir nodded, understanding completely, but also feeling it might be wise to move Penny's tankard well out of her reach. Penny did not notice. Her voice had fallen to an embarrassed murmur.

"Stupid idea… heat of the moment… act first, think later, as usual…"

"Not at all, Pen-ii. I do not think you need concern yourself," Arvain said gently. "It was clear that it was well-meant and sincerely so. It was an excellent gesture."

Lindir raised an eyebrow at him at the use of the word 'excellent' but said nothing.

"It seemed to move you much," Eleniel said. "What was the song about?"

"I think I can tell you, Eleniel, or some of it, at least."

Penny turned to find Erestor had left his seat on the high table and was standing behind her.

"There were some words I did not know," he continued, "but I could guess at most of it."

Even as he was talking, Halladan and Faelon appeared beside him. Penny was pleased to note that while they were looking nearly as surprised as Arvain and Lindir, they also both looked a little proud of her.

"Brave girl," Faelon murmured. "Takes courage, something like that."

"Shall I tell them, or will you?" Erestor smiled at Penny. "The kings have both asked for a translation, as have Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Mithrandir is obliging them as best he can. I translated for Lord Elrond to the best of my ability whilst you were singing."

Penny had not really thought through what the consequences might be of what she had done before she had started. The idea that her performance was being talked over and analysed by the great and good left her feeling hugely embarrassed and as if she had, frankly, humiliated herself. She shifted awkwardly in her seat.

Erestor looked at Eleniel and answered on Penny's behalf.

"As best I could understand it, it is a song sung by a young woman as her love rides to war."

Penny tried to avoid everyone's eye as he spoke.

"She says she will wait for him, but if he is overlong away perhaps he will return to find her dead. Is that not so, Pen-ii? She urges him to come to where she lies, if that is the case, and tell her that he loves her still so that she might hear him and be comforted."

There was a brief silence as everyone around Penny digested this information and both assessed its appropriateness (or otherwise), and also her reaction to it as she had sung it.

"It was the only thing I could think of that I knew and was even remotely in keeping with…," Penny gestured vaguely around her, still not looking anyone in the eye, "all this. It is not just a king that is being mourned, but all loss, be it in this War or any other."

She realised she could not hope to explain herself adequately now the moment had passed. She just shrugged and hoped they would understand. She felt a gentle touch upon her shoulder and looked up to see Erestor smiling down at her.

"It was well chosen, Pen-ii. It was a gesture that has been understood by those whose approval is most important here, both in terms of the sentiment expressed as well as that intended, and as such it has been smiled upon. You did well, albeit the manner of it was, perhaps, somewhat unorthodox."

Penny looked confused. Erestor lowered his voice a little as he replied.

"You are the only mortal female to have sung, Pen-ii. Did you not realise? One or two ellith have done so, it is true, but none of them alone."

Penny's eyes widened and she could feel the flush creep into her cheeks as she looked at him in horror.

Erestor smiled once more and shook his head.

"Ai, Pen-ii. Your choice of song and the manner in which you sang it more than made up for any astonishment caused by your action." He paused and grinned. "I have to say, however, that you gave Lord Elrond something of a shock when you first stood up. I am not sure he quite knew what to expect of you."

He chuckled then and the others joined him.

Of course then they wanted a translation of the song line by line. However Erestor said it would have to wait since he had been sent to fetch her at the request of both Eomer and Aragorn.

Erestor led her behind the top table, so between it and the throne. That way she was not quite so exposed to the rest of the Meduseld where some were still eyeing her with interest, nudging each other and pointing.

Several members of the high table had already left their places and were mingling with their lieutenants and fellow nobles in the hall, so it was a relatively small group who welcomed Penny and requested a detailed translation of her song. It seemed Gandalf had only been able to manage so much since it was intention as much as anything that he picked up on, so whatever meaning her words had literally held in the last two stanzas had been confused for him by the strong emotions and thoughts she had had whilst she had sung them.

So word by word Penny translated it all for Aragorn (who translated for Eomer and Eowyn), Faramir, Arwen, Elrond, Celeborn, Galadriel, Gandalf, Legolas and Erestor. They did not ask her to sing it again, she was pleased to note, but all commended her on her choice and the sentiment she had tried to convey by her gesture. Those who knew her very well said so with knowing looks that spoke volumes. King Eomer in particular made a point of kissing her hand and thanking her for it, which made her blush furiously and, frankly, feel like she was some flustered schoolgirl. The expression on Elrond's face was unreadable but his eyes were smiling, which Penny took as a good sign.

As she thanked them and hurried back to her seat, Gandalf gently placed his hand on her arm, staying her momentarily as she walked past him. He then paid her the biggest compliment anyone could have paid her.

"I know Halbarad would have been proud of what you did, Pen-ii, and the song you chose."

"Not only Halbarad," added Arwen in a quiet murmur, who had been standing nearby and had turned to join them as Gandalf had spoke. She took Penny's hand and looked her in the eye. "I am sure your mother also would have been proud to see it."

Penny knew from the look she was giving her that Arwen had read something in her thoughts as she had sung, that she could guess perhaps at what things were troubling her of late. Perhaps Galadriel and Gandalf had sensed it also. Penny glanced at Gandalf to find he was not looking at her but was nodding and smiling in way that showed he thought it well said of Arwen and agreed completely.

Penny looked back at Arwen, unable to speak for a moment.

"Thank you," she said at last, barely above a whisper.

Arwen smiled, gave her hand a gentle squeeze and then let it go.

Back at the table, Penny tried to forget what Arwen had just said to her and to show willing when they instantly demanded they now be enlightened as to the meaning of the song. It was hard, though, to keep thoughts of her mother and family out of her head as she went through the words, and as she spoke a silence fell as they listened to her, understanding perhaps better her choice and her emotion.

Eleniel felt moved to say she felt it a very well chosen song. Faelon, Halladan and Arvain all agreed and even Lindir was forced to concede the point, indeed he began to insist she sing it once more all the way through. Penny protested when the others began to join in, laughingly, but their laughter only seemed to stand in sharp relief compared to how she was feeling and her show of bravado beginning to fail her in the face of their onslaught. It was Halladan who stood up for her first, though they had perhaps all realised at the same time that she seemed a little upset, saying they should 'leave her be and another time perhaps.' Lindir, with a sincere smile, immediately agreed and apologised for badgering her.

Pleased that it had gone done better than she could have dared to hope, but hugely embarrassed by the fuss and still somewhat shaken by Arwen's comment to her, Penny left as soon as possible. Many of the elves were leaving already, or had already done so, and it was beginning to get late, so it would not at all look like it running away (though that was exactly what it was).

There was a potentially unpleasant moment as she left the Meduseld, however.

As she muttered a polite 'excuse me' to make her way past a small group of young men, Gondorians and Rohirrim, standing near the door talking quietly, one amongst them looked up, recognised her and inclined his head, smiling that over-familiar wide smile at her.

"Lady Pen-ii. That was fine display you made."

Penny looked at Corunir coldly. She did not bother to try and work out if he meant it as a compliment or if the choice of the word 'display' had the same sort of double meaning it might have in English.

Since she had been stopped by him speaking to her directly (though if she had realised who it was who had spoken to her sooner she would have pretended not to have heard him and walked on by), it might have been expected, if only for courtesy's sake by those nearby them, that she would respond, and she did briefly wonder if she could think of anything to say to him that would not involve raging or insult. However, when she realised she could not, she just turned and walked away from him without a backward glance. Little did she realise it (though she might have guessed had she stopped to consider it), it was the social equivalent of a rather public slap in the face, especially given the clear amount of loathing that had been in her gaze before she had snubbed him. Indeed had she glanced backwards she might have noticed Corunir looking hugely embarrassed and turning to those around him with a rather affected, nervous laugh and a grin since they were now looking at him with some curiosity.

Not that it would have troubled Penny in the least if she had seen it.

She wandered back to the camp with Lindir and Rhimlath. The latter's only comments on her performance were that 'it was a rather short song, was it not?', that her voice was really far too weak for such a large space and that, frankly, she was extremely bold to have dared stand at all especially given others had had the sheer gall to hold him back from performing his famous (here Lindir muttered, "Do you not mean 'infamous'?") 'Ode to the Fallen – An Intricately Penned Epic Spanning All Twelve Years Of The Campaign That Became Known As The War Of The Last Alliance.'

Penny blinked at him. If the length of the title was anything to go by, she suspected it would have been easily as long and tedious as the piece he had recited at Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. No wonder he had been effectively sat on by those around when he had tried to get to his feet.

"What, all twelve years?" she said at last, somewhat bewildered.

At which point Lindir collapsed into hysterical sniggering.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

The lyrics for 'Danny Boy' are as follows (and it's well out of copyright so fine to quote them in full):

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling  
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side  
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying  
'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come you back when summer's in the meadow  
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow  
'tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow  
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying  
And I am dead, as dead I well may be  
You'll come and find the place where I am lying  
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me  
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be  
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me  
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

"Danny Boy" is not actually an Irish song. The lyrics were written by an Englishman – one Frederic Edward Weatherly – and whilst they were set to a tune that he was told was called "A Londonderry Air" (though I'm not sure anyone has verified that actually was its name), as has been often pointed out, it's nothing like a traditional Irish folk tune, and indeed the name 'Londonderry' in the title indicates not only Northern Ireland but 'sympathetic/loyal to England' Northern Ireland and thus it's very likely the tune is English in origin also. I dunno why I am saying this, just felt it was interesting and of note while I was on this subject, that was all, especially given it's often 'done to death' precisely because everyone thinks it's Irish. Still a lovely song, though.

The detail re. Legolas's song relates back to the fact that Thranduil brought back only one third of the Mirkwood army from Mordor, thanks in large part to his father, Oropher, not waiting for the signal from the Noldor (and Gil-galad) so they would all charge as one, but instead charging separately up Orodruin only to get himself (and much of his army) killed as a consequence.

My thanks, as ever, for your patience in waiting for chapters, your loyalty and dedication in sticking with this ever-expanding fic and thank you in particular to all those who get in touch, let me know their thoughts, responses in reviews and comments, etc.


	43. Feasting and Farewells

**Chapter 43** - _"Feasting and Farewells"_

The following morning was the worst yet in the camp. All the ellith in Penny's tent seemed desperately sad, and a sad elf is, by and large, a contradiction in terms – they are by nature a happy people – so it was very distressing to see, let alone to have to share a space with them.

Penny fled to the Dunedain section of the camp for breakfast.

The previous evening had been far less sombre and severe than the first night's feasting, and soon after Penny had left it had apparently livened up quite considerably. A certain level of decorum and seriousness had been maintained to some extent, but there had also been a huge amount of drinking and loud singing, so she was told. Thus it was that Arvain was not the only one at breakfast who was feeling a little delicate.

However, Halladan had little sympathy. While they ate he kept leaning sideways till he was only inches away from Arvain's ear and then asking him to pass him this or that in a voice that was, frankly, unnecessarily loud.

"COULD YOU PASS ME THAT BREAD?"

Arvain glared at him.

"I might be feeling worse for wear, brother, but I could still quite happily knock you to the ground if you carry on in this manner."

Halladan raised an amused eyebrow.

"Oh yes?" He grinned. "I for one would like to see you try."

"Very well."

With a scowl, Arvain jumped to his feet and started undoing the belt on his overtunic. He was in absolute earnest. Already feeling unwell, having had Halladan poke his headache into one of monumental proportions meant he was now in an even worse temper than he had been when he had been awoken by their cousin singing about 'How Fair The Maids of Arnor Be' at full volume only a little after dawn.

"Sit down," Halladan said, laughing.

"I am not joking, Halladan." Arvain spoke through gritted teeth, his nose flaring a little. "_Get up!_"

"And _I_ said 'sit down,' Arvain." Halladan's tone had changed – it was edged with something hard all of a sudden. "You are making a spectacle of yourself. Perhaps your head is still reeling with Rohirric ale this morning. You might be better served by taking a sac of water and going to rest for a few hours more."

Penny had suddenly had a flash of Halbarad as Halladan had spoken – it was exactly his father's tone. Arvain exploded.

"WHY YOU…!"

Penny barely even registered Faelon moving, and yet he was there in an instant, standing between the two brothers even as Halladan got to his feet, his eyes blazing nearly as fiercely as Arvain's.

"We are all a little worse for the drink this morning, I suspect. Tempers are short and patience at a minimum. For shame, Halladan, have you never had a bad head yourself of a morning that you do not know better than to goad your brother? Wait… What am I saying? You_ are_ brothers, after all." He laughed, clapping his hands round both men's shoulders. "What, would you come to blows over a mere hunk of two-day-old bread and have Lady Pen-ii consider you both utterly ridiculous for the rest of her life?" He winked at her as he said this. "No, no. Shake hands, sit down and be done with it. Halladan, stop baiting your brother, and Arvain, stop picking fights until you feel more yourself. There. Let that be an end to it."

Halladan snorted a half laugh, smiled and shook his head as if to say 'yes, we are being ridiculous, aren't we?' He held out his hand and Arvain shook it but with far less grace than his brother was managing. Indeed Arvain did not sit back down but instead grabbed his belt which he had flung to the grass beside him and stalked off back to his tent.

Penny noted that he did stop and grab a water-sac on his way, however.

She could not help the amused snort that escaped her and glanced up to realise Halladan had spotted it too and was chuckling. She grinned at him and he grinned back.

Meanwhile Faelon had wandered back to his spot nearby and was in the middle of talking to two other Dunedain, making some comment about youthful over-indulgence inevitably leading to crankiness over the morning meal.

"…Of course the fact that we are running low on pipeweed does not help," he added.

There were nods from those listening.

Penny blinked. They were running low on…? Come to think of it, she had noticed they were smoking less. Even the hobbits. Of course they had had to ration the tea too since there was no way it would last the journey to Imladris and they wanted to make it last as long as possible. There was talk of only one pot every other day, but if the tobacco ran out as well… Good grief, it did not bear thinking about!

Stuck with grieving elves on one side and a bunch of warriors suffering nicotine cold turkey on the other? What a 'joyful' ride north it would be.

The thought was enough to put Penny off her breakfast entirely.

It was a strange morning. While Edoras was clearly slowly falling back into its daily routine, with people coming and going as they always had to and from the camp with supplies or just to socialise, the elves were the most serious even the Dunedain had ever seen them. Arwen came to be with them all from soon after dawn and spent entire morning and early afternoon till the feast in long conversations, either in small groups or, more often, individually. There would be no time for such prolonged farewells at the feasting, and little time later that night or on the morrow. Tears were shed more than once by her but mostly by those she spoke to as farewells were said. Indeed, while sad and pained to see them sorrowing and at the thought that this would be the last she would see of many there, Arwen remained calm and serene, managing to ease their grief by her stoicism and acceptance but mostly by the clear signs of love's true happiness upon her.

At one point she even came to find the Dunedain, wishing them well and thanking them on her husband's behalf for the support they had shown him, the part they had played in the War.

"You must be glad to be riding north once more. You will have been missed by your families and loved ones. They will be glad to see you, and it will not be overlong before Estel… before Aragorn and I will visit you all."

Penny she spoke to separately. It was after lunch and was not too long before the time to head up to the Meduseld. Penny was unsure what to say at first.

"Your Majesty, I… I must thank you … for everything. You have been so kind to me, even from the first. You have been a support even when I barely realised I needed one, such as that time in Lothlorien."

There was so much else she wanted to say, to ask, and yet…

"This must be so hard for you."

She said it in a whisper, her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself. Arwen looked down.

"I do not regret…"

"I know. I know you do not. And they have all had time to grow used to the idea, indeed they knew it was a possibility from the day you and your brothers were born, after all. It still must be hard for you, and for them. Just for today, perhaps, as accepting and as understanding as they all are. Forgive me, it is not my place to mention such things, only…"

"No, Pen-ii, I know you know our stories, _my_ story, in intimate detail. Perhaps you have more right than most because of that fact."

They looked each other in the eye, and for a moment or two neither spoke.

"You will be happy."

"I know."

"Yours is a great love. What the two of you have… it will go down in history."

"I know."

Penny was weeping in spite of herself. Arwen gave her a slight, sad smile.

"I also know it is not me you feel for most deeply, Pen-ii. I will do my best to comfort him when we say our farewells, though it will be bitter indeed…"

And only then did Arwen show any chink in her serenity as she paused to gather in her emotions.

"He will have my brothers to comfort him also. And my mother when he comes to the West at last."

Penny said nothing. What could she say?

Arwen gently took her hand and her voice was slightly thick as she spoke.

"It means much to me that his story moves your people so. I cannot regret my choice, nor do I, and he gave his blessing long ago. Let that be a comfort to you, Pen-ii, as you go north to face the rest of your life. You cannot dictate where love will fall, and to deny it is bitterness indeed. Perhaps it is easier for a mortal to do so – they live so briefly, after all – but for an immortal… No. No, it is far, far sweeter for me to love, and love truly, than to have lived an eternity knowing I loved only him and could never love another. That would have broken me utterly, Pen-ii. I would have been lost to my father either way. Such is love." She let go of Penny's hand and cupped her cheek. "I hope you might know such a love one day. And it may be you will remember my choice then and understand it that much better: that there are times when you have to accept what fate has decreed shall be, rather than choose the path which, for all it might seem it would cause others less pain, would leave you bereft for all your days and cause those who love you perhaps more pain in seeing you suffer so." She kissed her brow. "Farewell, sweet Pen-ii. We shall meet again soon. I know it."

Penny watched her go with her cheeks wet with tears.

Perhaps the farewells had had some effect of releasing the tension, or perhaps the feast was seen as a brief respite from the prevailing mood, but either way the elves seemed surprisingly buoyant as they headed up to the Meduseld. They were subdued, yes, but no more than they had been the past few days.

Arvain had reappeared by mid-morning and, after copious amounts of water and lying in a darkened tent for a couple of hours, seemed much improved, indeed had behaved as if nothing untoward had happened at breakfast at all (though Penny had noticed him wordlessly offer his hand to his brother the moment he had seen him, Halladan taking it and slapping Arvain on the back with a laugh and a shake of the head).

The moment they all arrived in the courtyard, it was clear that while tonight was still officially part of the ceremonials, it was going to be more 'feast' than 'wake.' Already the noise was far louder and more boisterous than it had been on the previous two nights, and the same was true even inside the Meduseld, indeed it had more of the feel of that first feast Penny had attended many weeks before. If nothing else the elves seemed (for the time being, at least) quite grateful for the distraction.

As had been the form for the previous two nights, there were ballads, lays and recitations while they ate, but these were far less of the 'heroes fall in battle' kind than of the 'heroes whup the bad guys' butts' kind, and involved much joining in and cheering even from the get-go.

Some time after the meal had finished, Eomer stood, actually banging the table with a spoon to get everyone's attention. Given he glanced sideways at his sister before he began, Penny felt she could guess what was coming.

Granted it was Theoden's funeral wake, Eomer admitted, but their uncle had been like a father to Eowyn and so would not begrudge a departure from the norm on such an occasion. He had good tidings, he continued, and wished it to be known in front of such esteemed, noble and fair company. Prince Faramir had declared his love for the Lady Eowyn and asked for her hand, and Eowyn had accepted full gladly and with a joyous heart. They would be trothplighted this very night. As both Eowyn's brother and her king, Eomer smiled on the union, blessed it and wished them well.

The cheer that went up through the Hall as Eowyn and Faramir were then made to stand and have their hands set one into the other by Eomer nearly raised the rafters. Eowyn actually looked a little pink around the gills as a broadly smiling Faramir took her hand, lifted it to his lips and kissed it gently.

Then Eomer insisted on toasting the betrothal, and everyone joined him. Aragorn then insisted on toasting them also, which gave everyone another excuse to join in. Faramir, in his turn, then thanked his future brother-in-law and turned to the Hall to swear his love of Rohan, the Rohirrim and Eowyn in particular (which raised another huge cheer), and to toast them all in his turn (which went down very well in the Hall as it was yet another excuse to fill cups to the brim).

As the mood at the feast inevitably turned slowly from wake to celebration, as musicians were sent for and the songs became faster and lighter in tone, as tables were pushed back to the sides and others quickly carried away by servants to make way for dancing, many elves took that as their cue to take some air or even to leave entirely.

It was not rudeness, merely that for many now was not the time for such levity much as they did not begrudge it of the Rohirrim and Gondorians, indeed were pleased for them. In fact, before they left, many made a point of going over to Faramir and Eowyn and congratulating them on their betrothal, wishing them a happy marriage, long lives and many children. And they meant it too. After all, Faramir had made a very good impression amongst them all in the time they had known him and, as far as Eowyn was concerned, any mortal who not only faced up to the Witchking but cut him down was someone of note and worthy of any elf's respect – a fact even Rhimlath readily admitted to (and which Merry had had made clear to him to, it has to be said).

Of course it did not go unnoticed that both Arwen and Elrond disappeared round about this point, using the sudden flurry of activity to cover their exit. Elladan and Elrohir went with them, not because they needed to take any farewells of their sister but, as family, to be a comfort to them both as best they could be and, as former residents of Rohan who knew the surrounding countryside well, to lead them to the hills where they might have some privacy and take their time to say their farewells undisturbed.

Aragorn remained at some remove from the proceedings from that point on, sitting quietly at high table with Gandalf beside him and both Erestor and Glorfindel nearby. It was perhaps no surprise that, for all Gandalf was keeping him company, neither seemed to be in conversation most of the time.

In spite of that, however, quite a few elves stayed a while longer, Mireth, Lindir and Rhimlath amongst them. No doubt they were all hoping to distract themselves a little longer and, to that end, Penny found herself dragged off for a dance by Lindir almost as soon as the music began and, the moment Arvain grabbed her for the next dance, Lindir immediately found himself a pretty young lady of Rohan to replace her. However, the poor girl flushed such a violent red all the way through their dance and seemed so incapable of looking him in the eye even once – only stared at his tunic or her own feet – that he actually felt a little guilty afterwards and subsequently danced several rounds with Eleniel instead.

An hour or so passed and Penny was actually enjoying herself. The whirl of the dancing and the small amount of ale on a not-exactly-full stomach were giving her a light head: she needed a rest. Lindir laughed and accused her of having no stamina but took her to the side of the Hall nonetheless. He left her in Mireth and Eleniel's company whilst he attached himself to a small group nearby where Rhimlath was in full flow about something or other to a captive audience of Dunedain and Gondorian nobles.

Penny, meanwhile, having sat down between the two ellith, gratefully accepted a sip of Mireth's wine. However, as she handed the cup back to her she realised Mireth was trying not to laugh while at the same time throwing glances at Eleniel. Penny looked at Eleniel to realise she was in the same sort of state.

"What? What is it?"

Eleniel bit back a grin.

"We think you have an admirer."

"What?! Do not be absurd!"

"We do!" Mireth insisted, "And why should it be absurd?"

"There is a certain young man who cannot keep himself from looking at you…"

"…and every time he thinks you might look in his direction he suddenly turns away in clear embarrassment and confusion…"

"… and I even saw him move away from you every time you seemed to get near to him in that last dance with Lindir…"

"Well, that only proves that, like many Rohirrim, I suspect, he thinks me a curiosity and someone to be avoided."

Mireth and Eleniel exchanged a glance and shook their heads.

"There is more to it than that," Eleniel persisted.

"It is as if he wishes to say something but is shy to do so, or is too timid to approach you."

Penny was intrigued and possibly even a little convinced in spite of herself. She began to look round the Meduseld.

"Which is he?"

"Do not be so obvious!" Mireth laughed. "Over there." She nodded her head in the direction of a group of Rohirrim standing beside Elfhelm and Faramir. "The young Rohirric lord."

Penny looked at her scathingly.

"'The young Rohirric lord'? Do you have any idea how many 'young Rohirric lords' there are in here?"

"Well, he is…"

"If you say 'blond' I might have to get annoyed," Penny interrupted and then laughed.

"I was going to say 'tall,' I will have you know." Mireth caught Eleniel giving her a sceptical look. "I was! Anyway, the young, tall man of Rohan in the dark green tunic with the golden brocading at the shoulder…"

Penny spotted him and as she looked at him something jogged within her memory. He certainly did seem faintly familiar, though why that should be… Perhaps she had danced with him at Minas Tirith? But, no, if he had been in the eored that had travelled with them from Gondor he would seem far more familiar to her, even if by face alone. No, she must have met him the last time she was here, but the only time that really was likely to have been was…

Oh, no.

Even as it occurred to her that she could only have met him when she was drunk as a skunk, Eleniel suddenly spoke.

"I am sure you danced with at least one Rohirric lord when we were here last, did you not? Could that be him?"

And it all fell into place.

Yes, she had definitely danced with someone, she was sure of it. It could not have been anyone other than one of the Rohirrim since she was sure one of the elves would have mentioned it before now (given the state she had been in), so that meant…

At that moment he glanced in her direction and their eyes met.

He looked nearly as alarmed by it as she felt, it had to be said, but he recovered quickly and smiled politely, inclining his head by way of greeting and acknowledgement. Then he looked down, clearly faintly embarrassed, then back to his friends, then back to her again only to realise she was still looking at him, and then back to his friends again.

"Go over to him." Eleniel nudged her.

"What?! Are you insane? No!"

"Eleniel," Mireth countered, "I am not sure that…"

"If he will not summon up the courage to approach her, then…"

"True, but I am not sure if in Rohirric circles women _can_…"

"Mireth, I am only suggesting she go over to greet him. The rest would be up to him."

"Well, there is that. It would be only polite, given they have now noticed each other, after all, and if they have already danced together before now…"

"I _am_ sitting right here, you know!"

"He is still throwing glances in this direction, Pen-ii…"

"Go, Pen-ii, while the opportunity presents itself."

"After all, it might do you good to have a man showing you some romantic attention."

"What?!" Penny could not have looked more stunned.

"Oh, I agree, Mireth," Eleniel chimed in. "Nothing better, frankly, than feeling a little flattered by someone's attention, innocent as it might be, and even though nothing will come of it…"

"And I am fairly sure this is the same man I noticed glancing in Pen-ii's direction last night and the night before…"

"Oh, this is ridiculous! Will the pair of you please be quiet?!"

Penny was feeling horribly uncomfortable and embarrassed, but glancing up once more to find she had caught the man looking in her direction yet again, she felt duty did indeed compel her to do something, if only to try and prove to him that she did actually remember him and had not completely ignored him for two whole nights because she had been so drunk last time they had met that she could not even now remember his name.

Besides which it got her away from Eleniel and Mireth who were both blithely ignoring her requests for them to be quiet and were still praising the delights of 'dancing with a male who only had eyes for you' to the hilt. It was making her stomach squirm just listening to them.

She stood up and made her way across to him (and tried to ignore the excited squeaks of delight from behind her as she did so).

Time to try her appalling Westron…

"My lord? Forgive if to interrupt. We are meeting before, no?"

The man was staring and blinking at her in what could only be described as acute discomfort as he realised she was actually talking to him and him alone. He nodded then smiled a little nervously and bowed his head graciously.

"Indeed. I had the pleasure of a dance with you, Lady Pen-ii."

Someone behind him stifled a snigger but Penny did not notice. There was a slightly awkward pause.

"You are fully recovered from your illness, I hear," he said at last. "That is good news, indeed."

"I am thanking you, yes." Good grief, did _everyone_ know? "Fortunate I am journeying with elves. Elves big healers they are."

"Yes, indeed. They have proved themselves as such in their visits here. We are most grateful to them."

It was probably the most painful episode of making small-talk known to man.

Penny noticed he kept glancing this way and that. She would have said he did not want to be seen with her except that… except that there had been something in the way that he had smiled at her that had been genuinely warm. That and he seemed to be talking to her chest quite a bit.

At that moment, Elfhelm, standing nearby, spotted her and greeted her, asking her if she was enjoying the evening. Penny thanked him and then took the opportunity to congratulate Faramir and wish him well.

"I thank you, Lady Pen-ii. And I in turn must wish you well with the Dunedain. We shall miss your company in Minas Tirith, but I know you will be amongst a good and noble people."

Elfhelm nodded his agreement of Faramir's assessment of the Dunedain but as the young man listened to this exchange he seemed to have, if anything, turned slightly pale.

"Dunedain?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

However, he got no further as Elfhelm, bold as brass and with several tankards of ale behind him, clapped him on the back and asked if he was going to ask Lady Pen-ii for a dance or not.

"Dithering about like some love-sick teen, boy? For shame!"

It had been said in Rohirric so Penny had had no hope of understanding, but it still made the young man wince and his friends laugh heartily. He was left with little option given she had come to him and made polite conversation (and clearly had no memory of what had occurred and had been kept in the dark by her friends), given Elfhelm himself had suggested it, given, indeed, the future brother-in-law to the King himself was watching and had just spoken to her with some kindness and friendship.

"But of course," the young man murmured as held out his hand to Penny with the best smile he could manage given he was probably thinking now would be a good time for the ground to open up and swallow him, "Would you allow me the honour?"

Penny actually felt very flattered. After all, he was not bad looking and had, apparently, been shooting looks at her for the entire evening, so she finally allowed herself to believe a little of what Mireth and Eleniel had been suggesting was the case. Perhaps he did like her a little. She accepted his offer gratefully and let him lead her to the dancing area.

He was perfectly charming as they danced. He was not overly friendly, perhaps, but certainly courteous and polite. She put his slight reticence down to shyness; some men were like that with women, after all. At one point she caught Eleniel and Mireth looking at her, grins on their faces and 'I told you so' expressions in their eyes. She just looked away shyly and tried not to laugh.

At about the same time, however, only a few feet away from Mireth and Eleniel, Lindir was staring open-mouthed in astonishment and growing rage.

Rhimlath was still deep in conversation with the small group of Dunedain and Gondorians, boring the breeches off them about some finer detail regarding Gondorian ship-building methods that he had discovered during his researches in the library at Minas Tirith.

Lindir quietly said his name through gritted teeth.

Rhimlath looked up, excused himself and turned to Lindir. Lindir said nothing, just gestured with a slight nod of the head in Penny's direction. Rhimlath looked, could not at first see what it was Lindir was clearly so very annoyed about, and then…

"How DARE he?!" His voice was cold as steel.

"My sentiments exactly," Lindir snarled.

Halladan had been amongst the group Rhimlath had been talking to and now stepped over to the pair of ellyn. Clearly something was up. He looked in the direction they were both directing furious gazes and, with some concern, realised they seemed to be looking in Penny's direction. He could see nothing untoward, however, given she was dancing with a young Rohirric soldier who he knew had fought with them on the Pelennor and at the Black Gate.

"What is the matter?"

Lindir and Rhimlath exchanged a glance, as if mutually realising this could be delicate given Halladan was Penny's guardian, and yet at the same time realising he had to be told.

It was Lindir who explained exactly what had gone on that fateful night, what Penny had said (Halladan winced as he listened), how it had been misinterpreted (not that Halladan had really needed to have it explained to him), how the man had responded to the gentle suggestions that he was mistaken (to which Halladan raised first one eyebrow, then two) and what Rhimlath's response to him had been (for which Halladan thanked Rhimlath with the utmost sincerity).

By the time Lindir had finished Halladan was easily as livid as they were to know the culprit was right at that moment dancing with Penny so brazenly.

It would not do to cause a scene, especially given Penny had no memory of the events that night (she would not have been dancing with the man if she did), and besides which the dance was just then coming to an end anyway. Halladan could take her to one side, quietly insist she not dance with him again and that would be an end to it.

Of course, as the dance ended Penny, emboldened, briefly wondered (if not hoped, though she would never have admitted it) if the man of Rohan might ask her for a second dance but instead he offered to walk her to her seat. Penny thanked him, and began to head off in that direction. As the man turned to follow her, he finally clocked who was standing near to the little bench Penny was heading for.

He paled and swallowed. Hard.

Lindir, Rhimlath and Halladan glared furiously back at him.

Penny, realising, perhaps, that he was not keeping step with her, turned back and smiled encouragingly at him and he, coming to, forced a smile back at her and hurried to catch up, though once walking alongside her he seemed to go slower and slower with each step.

Just at that moment, Arvain appeared at Halladan's elbow with a tankard of ale for him. He looked round to see what they were all staring at and immediately recognised the Rohirric lord with Penny, just as Halladan had done before him. He stepped forward and greeted him warmly, taking his hand and slapping him on the back as if he were an old friend and brother-in-arms (which he was).

"Ah, just had a turn on the floor with our Pen-ii, have you? Good, good."

The young man seemed unable to respond. He just kept throwing alarmed glances at Lindir and Rhimlath.

"She is not so bad a dancer, is she?"

Arvain grinned at Penny as he spoke. She narrowed her eyes at him, hoping he would not choose this moment to show her up.

"With a bit more practise she could do very well indeed, I say. Why do you not take her for another dance, eh? After all, as her guardian, I have a say in who she can dance with and who not, and one such as you…"

"Her guardian?"

The man boggled at him. He glanced once more at Halladan, understanding that much better now why he looked as livid as the two ellyn.

"Oh, yes. Both Halladan and myself. She is travelling to live with us in the north."

All the man could manage was an 'oh.'

Or rather his mouth made the shape of an 'oh' but no sound came out.

That he did not seem to be jumping at the opportunity to take her for a second dance seemed to tell Penny that she was a disappointment to him or more likely that perhaps he remembered only too well that she had been utterly bladdered the last time they had met and was embarrassed to have much to do with her. It dawned on her that, if that was the case, she had probably put him in an impossible position by approaching him at all. Since Arvain now seemed to be monopolising the conversation, she thought a 'cut-and-run' job might be safest. He could always approach her later for a second dance if he so wanted given the ice had been broken between them, but somehow she suspected it would not happen.

"I am thanking you, my lord. Very good you are being to dance. It was pleasure to be again seeing you." She faltered and switched to Sindarin. "Arvain, could you apologise for me, I think I might have placed him on the spot a little by going over to him."

There was a splutter next to her. "You went over to him?"

"Yes, Halladan. Was that wrong? Eleniel and Mireth said… Well, it does not matter. I thought I recognised him and was fairly sure we had met before. I simply went to greet him – I did not want him to think me rude, after all, by simply ignoring him. I think he perhaps felt he had little choice than ask me to dance after that." She turned back to Arvain. "Thank him for me. He was most polite."

She smiled at the young Rohirric noble once more, then turned tail and fled.

While Lindir, Rhimlath and Halladan, now better understanding the situation, tried to turn down their anger a notch, Arvain was giving a brief summary of what Penny had just said to the young man. In return the young man, without thinking, made a show of saying that nothing had delighted him more than asking Penny for a dance and that she had done nothing to force him into it until, realising the import of what he was saying, he glanced in horror at the three males nearby, muttered something about how he really needed to see a man about a dog on the other side of the Golden Hall and would they excuse him.

"Of course, my friend, of course," Arvain replied breezily with a smile, "but mark you I shall find you out later. We shall have a drink together, for old times' sake. A man who fought with me is a friend indeed. Such is the way of my people."

The man nodded and thanked him saying he would look forward to it, then paused, turned, gave a swift nod and a murmured 'my lords' in the direction of Lindir, Rhimlath and Halladan, and then fled nearly as fast as Penny had done.

"And dance with Lady Pen-ii whenever you so choose," Arvain called after him with a grin.

He turned back to find his brother and the two ellyn glaring at him

"What? What did I say?"

Mireth and Eleniel refused to believe that the man had not been wholly delighted with his dance with Penny and refused to listen Penny's insistence that he had seemed anything other than awkward and embarrassed.

It was only because he had felt pressured by Lord Elfhelm, they said, and then to be confronted by her guardians immediately afterwards, well, it was all too much. After all, it was not like she was staying on in Rohan, so it was not like anything could go any further than a few dances, so it probably all seemed a little heavy-handed.

Penny allowed them to soothe her self-consciousness and almost believed them.

The evening passed. The elves slowly drifted away one by one. Penny tried not to think about whatever anguish was going on somewhere in the nearby hills, though she did have a very long, quiet session with Eleniel in a corner somewhere, telling her how she was going to miss her terribly when they parted in the morning.

"Oh, I shall not be gone too long. After all I will be coming north before they sail. I shall see you then. Mireth will look after you. She always has."

Penny nodded. Eleniel hugged her and they both wept a little.

Nor were they the only ones. As the night went on more and more people seemed to be taking their leave of the friends they had made during the War or afterwards. Merry was in the company of Rohirrim for most of the evening, and Pippin made a point of speaking to every Gondorian there, though he stayed longest, perhaps, with Beregond, remembering him to his son and wishing him well. Similarly occupied were Legolas and Gimli, who knew well both Rohirrim and Gondorians there, and Frodo and Sam who had made many friends in Minas Tirith during their long stay there. Being who they were, the two hobbits found themselves in much demand for much of the evening since nearly everyone wanted to shake their hands and bid them farewell, whether they knew them well or not.

It was getting later and Penny felt she had better head for the camp fairly soon. She decided to have one last dance, this time trying to persuade Halladan that his leg was that much better these days that he could manage it and, frankly, the exercise would be good for him. Faelon laughed and told him to listen to his 'young mother hen' till Halladan relented at last and let Penny take him by the hand and off to the dance area.

Halladan, Faelon and Arvain said they would walk her back. They wanted to say their last remaining farewells first, and Penny felt it only right she do the same, seeking out Eowyn and the ladies of Gondor to do exactly that, and also keeping her eyes peeled for Fimorndir. Arvain, Faelon and Halladan said they would meet her at the top of the steps outside the doors.

At long last, farewells made, Penny wove her way through the groups of people to the side of the dancing area. Just as she passed by the last of the huge pillars that held up the ceiling before she reached the open doors, she suddenly heard a familiar voice to her right.

"Ah. Lady Pen-ii. What, no farewell fr'm you, I take it?"

Corunír sounded drunk.

Very drunk.

The sort of drunk, in fact, where you can convince yourself that black is white and that all your problems are everyone else's fault and nothing whatsoever to do with you.

He had indeed been humiliated by Penny's reaction to him the previous night. In that moment it had become immediately apparent that the glare she had given him that first night during the feast had not been his imagination. He could only assume that her 'guardians' had seen fit to tell her what Fimorndir had overheard.

As some are wont to do when found out and, deep down, know they are in the wrong, Corunír had tried to convince himself that he was, if not in the right, then not nearly as black as he was being painted. Drinking heavily all evening had helped, of course. By the time he was well into his second jug of ale he had convinced himself that Fimorndir had been mistaken in what he had heard, that while it was true, yes, that he had considered how much it would annoy his mother and provide a laugh to his friends if he had wooed Penny, he had also genuinely found her not unpleasing on the eye, and who could say what might have been if she had been allowed time to succumb to his obvious charms. A kiss or two might not have gone amiss, but no. No, thanks to the interference of others she now saw fit to treat him no better than a cur. Him! A lord of Gondor! And she a mere… mere… whatever she was!

Penny tried to ignore him and walk on past.

"Oh, tha's right. Ignore me. Such _manners_, mi'lady. How becomin' of a friend of the King and Queen themselves."

It was spat out. Venomous.

Penny snapped.

"Manners?!" she hissed, her jaw clenched tight with fury, "You dare talk to me of manners?! What right, what RIGHT do you have, Corunír, to even talk to me, let alone of such things and in such a manner?! Have you no shame?!"

"Why are you bein' like this? What did I ever do to you? I, who only ever showed you friendship and warmth! It is unjust, Pen-ii!"

Penny could not believe the sheer _balls_ of the man.

"Unjust?! Are you in earnest?! Do you think I do not know what you truly thought of me? That you were considering courting me solely for your own amusement?!"

"And who told you that, eh?"

Others were turning to stare now, and it was likely as not that alcohol made him feel he could try and brazen this out in the face of those who did not know the truth of it all.

"Lor' Arvain? Lor' Hall'dan? Want to keep you away fr'm filthy southerners so you'll marry one of their own, p'rhaps?"

In normal circumstances, as a trained soldier and sometime wrestler, he would have seen the slap coming and blocked it easily. Given he was still upright only because he was leaning against the pillar, it caught him entirely by surprise, leaving a momentary ringing in his ears and a bright red mark upon his cheek that stung like mad. He stared at her in a mixture of astonishment and outrage.

Penny glared at him, absolutely livid. Then she turned on her heel and headed off towards the door.

Perhaps the slap had shaken some sense into him. Perhaps the stares and open mouths of those nearby had embarrassed him into thinking he should at least make a show of trying to salve things over. Whatever the reason, as Penny made to leave, she felt him grab hold of her forearm.

"Lady Pen-ii! Please! Wait!"

"Get your hands OFF me!"

She tried to pull her arm away but he was stronger than her and desperate to try and make some sort of public amends.

"Please, just listen… AAARGH!"

The hand that had closed around his wrist was indeed squeezing entirely too tight. It made him let go of his hold on Penny's forearm, however, so had achieved its purpose, but Arvain seemed to be undecided as to whether to let it go or just keep bending it back until Corunír's arm broke entirely.

Faelon put one arm around Penny's shoulder, quietly saying she should come with him, and exchanging a glance of cold fury with Halladan as he did so. As he led Penny to one side, out of the way, she glanced back in time to see Halladan quietly telling his brother to let go of Corunír.

He had to tell him three times, though, and even then Arvain only did so reluctantly.

Corunír slid to the floor, holding his wrist and whimpering. Halladan reached down and grabbed him by the neck of his tunic, hauling him to his feet before turning him and shoving him forward in one fluid movement.

"Move."

"How dare you talk to me like this…!"

Penny winced. _Bad_ move. Corunír really was stupid, wasn't he?

Halladan grabbed him once more and pulled him so close their noses nearly touched.

"I will talk to you in whatever manner I see fit, Corunír," he growled. "We can either go and see His Majesty right away or we can take a little detour outside for an hour first. The choice is yours."

There seemed to be a few seconds when it honestly looked like Corunír was going to show he did not have the brains he was born with by trying to stand up to Halladan, insult him or hit him. Any of which would have necessitated Halladan showing he had extraordinary will power in not just killing him on the spot. That he had managed to restrain Arvain was perhaps proof of that in itself, but it would not do to not appear to be just, fair and absolutely in the right on this.

Corunír seemed to wilt slightly. Halladan nodded slowly, loosening his hold a little. He shoved him once more.

"Move."

This time Corunír did so without a word.

What happened next Penny did not stay to see. Arvain asked her what had happened, so she told him, and he, his face black as thunder, headed off to join his brother (who even now had made it to the top table and was presenting Corunír to Aragorn) whilst Faelon walked her back to the camp.

In spite of herself she worried that Corunír had got himself into very serious trouble. She said as much to Faelon, insisting he had not hurt her, nor had he seemed likely to.

"I think he was trying to apologise. I do not know how sincerely, perhaps, but his tone…"

"Do not worry yourself, Pen-ii. Aragorn is as just and fair a man as you could ever hope to meet. Corunír will be dealt with in a manner befitting what he did and said; no more, no less." He glanced at her, as if assessing her for a moment. "I shall let Aragorn know your concerns, though, if that would reassure you."

"Yes. Yes, it would, Faelon. Thank you. I know what he did was inexcusable, it is simply that… Oh, I do not know. I suppose he reminds me of my brother too much. He deserves punishment, but I do not want it simply to breed resentment rather than teaching him the error of his ways."

"I understand. At the same time, you cannot force a man to be other than what he is. He can change, perhaps, but only if he truly wants to. I agree it should be something that matures him, though I am amazed war did not do that for him."

They fell into silence then.

The camp seemed eerily still when they got there. No one was singing amongst the elves, nor even talking. Penny slept alone in her tent that night and even then she did not sleep well.

Only at dawn was she aware of Mireth and one or two of the ellith finally coming to get some rest. She lifted her head and looked at Mireth questioningly. Mireth did not need to be asked.

"Yes. They have returned."

That was all she said, but the manner in which she said it, the utter sadness in her tone, made tears come to Penny's eyes as she wondered exactly what state Elrond must be in right now.

* * *

With thanks to the several who pointed out the Bergil/Beregond mix-up. It's now corrected. /thwaps self/ 


	44. No Man Is An Island

**Chapter 44** – _"No Man Is An Island" _

In the end, given the gradually increasing sense of loss that had pervaded the elvish camp over the previous week or so, all of it gearing towards this very morning, Penny had not expected the preparations for their departure to seem so strangely ordinary and everyday.

While it was true that she and the ellith in her tent had their perfunctory stand-up wash and dressed in almost total silence, that was, frankly, nothing unusual compared to most mornings of late; and whilst few amongst the elves seemed to be indulging in breakfast, the Dunedain most certainly were (even if, admittedly, only because no Ranger goes travelling on an entirely empty stomach if he can possibly help it). Indeed, with the hustle and bustle of dismantling tents, readying horses and preparing for the off, there was little time to wallow in misery at leaving friends, and it was pretty much business as usual.

It was the little things that gave that the lie, however.

There was almost no talk or chatter anywhere in the camp. Even the small group of Gondorians travelling with them as far as Isengard kept their voices to a low murmur and breakfast amongst the Dunedain was held in almost total silence.

Merry actually refused to eat a second breakfast. Under any other circumstances this would have caused a flurry of concern from the rest of the hobbits that he might be sickening for something, but then Pippin was not that much better since he did accept a second breakfast but then left much of what was offered to him untouched. It had been hard enough for him when he had left Minas Tirith, but now he would be leaving Beregond and Faramir behind him – two men he had come to love dearly.

Aragorn was in the camp from just after dawn, little more than an hour or so after Elrond's return. The first thing he did on arriving was to visit his father-in-law in his tent, the two spending a good half hour together before Aragorn then went to oversee his men.

Clearly Aragorn was as concerned for Elrond's well being as he was for Arwen's.

Of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir themselves, however, there was no sign right until the last, and indeed their tent was the very last to be dismantled. When Elrond finally appeared amongst the throng he showed no obvious signs of distress or the long, heart-rending night he had no doubt spent in the hills. However, those who knew him even as little as Penny did could see he was, if not withdrawn, then certainly had an air of restrained solemnity about him. His eyes were not nearly as bright, as ready to laughter as they usually seemed to be. No one approached him, and if any looked in danger of doing so, his sons, Erestor, Glorfindel or Mithrandir stepped towards them on his behalf to answer any question or finalise any routine details about preparations.

Arwen was nowhere to be seen and was, presumably, up in Edoras somewhere. Penny did not know if she would appear at all to see them off, and would not have blamed her in the least if she did not.

Aragorn would be riding as far as Orthanc with around thirty of his men who now formed, in effect, his personal guard while the rest of those who had travelled from Gondor would stay behind with Faramir and Prince Imrahil, but more importantly with Arwen. There was no reason for her to accompany her husband and unnecessarily put herself through the hardship of outdoor living so unsuitable for royalty. Penny wondered what it must be like for Aragorn to have to leave her, knowing how much she must be hurting, let alone to then have to travel with Elrond for a week (especially given he was, in effect, the cause of the separation); but diplomacy necessitated that the Queen remain in Rohan, strengthening ties between the two countries now that a prince of one would marry the sister of the king of the other whilst Aragorn's importance as 'The King Returned,' let alone as the new, rightful owner of Orthanc, meant he had to travel that far with Gandalf to see what (if anything) had become of that place and the wizard within it.

After breakfast, as Penny headed off to fetch her saddlebags and ready her horse, Halladan took her by the arm, saying, if she had a moment, King Elessar had asked to speak to her personally about Corunír. He led her over to Aragorn who was in conversation with Faelon nearby. Arvain, helping to load the horses, spotted them and, after a murmured apology to the man next to him saying he would return as soon as he was able, jogged over to join them.

Faelon, Arvain and Halladan stood silently as Aragorn spoke, his face grim and his tone serious.

He was appalled by the behaviour of Corunír both last night as well as prior to it. He could not apologise enough that Penny had been subjected to such unwanted attention (with such dishonourable intentions behind it) from a man of Gondor, one who was a member of the court and who, it had been thought, had better character than he had now proved himself to possess. However, he was also aware that she had had some concerns that Corunír might be too harshly viewed and Aragorn wanted to reassure her that he had taken that into consideration - (it seemed that Faelon, true to his word, had indeed walked straight back up to the Meduseld after he had left Penny at the camp and spoken to Aragorn as he had promised he would) - as well as the fact that she had suspected Corunír had actually been trying to apologise just as the others had intervened.

"You show him too much pity and kindness," Arvain muttered to Penny, though not unkindly.

"No, Arvain," Aragorn replied, "I am sure Pen-ii only wished to make it clear that the situation was not, perhaps, as bad as it might have immediately appeared. Is that not so, Pen-ii?"

Penny nodded.

"He was drunk and foolish, I think, more than black-hearted."

"And before last night?"

Penny could not find an answer for Halladan's question and he gave her a look that said 'exactly' by way of response. Faelon seemed to agree with him.

Even without the events of the previous night, Aragorn continued, Corunír would not have been amongst those to have joined him on the journey to Orthanc, but despite that it was only fair that Penny should know what had been decided. Corunír was now not even to stay at Edoras with the rest of the lords of Gondor. Instead he had been charged with the job of taking some messages back to Minas Tirith where some 'other work' would be found for him.

As Aragorn put it: "Better a use is found for his limited skills elsewhere than him kicking his heels in indolence and getting himself into trouble here."

Aragorn apologised profusely once more that she had been so put upon and disrespected in a manner so ill-deserved of one he held in high regard. However, he expressed (no doubt not for the first time) his gratification that Halladan and the others had been nearby to step in so quickly. Then he excused himself to go and oversee the preparations of his men.

While Arvain went back to finish help loading the horses, Faelon explained Aragorn's thinking in a little more detail. Sending Corunír back to Minas Tirith with messages provided a reasonable pretext to explain why he was being sent away. That it was sudden and out of the ordinary would indeed raise eyebrows, especially given word would have spread regarding his rather public actions last night, but by having some sort of explanation it meant it would not be overly humiliating for Corunír (though still cause enough comment for him to feel severe discomfort, as was only right and proper). Indeed, Aragorn would have had every right to simply have told Corunír to ride back to Minas Tirith without any excuse whatsoever other than that he had so displeased the King that he was no longer welcome in his, or his wife's, company. Corunír knew it and had been very grateful to Aragorn for the magnanimity he had shown him, Faelon said. He had also sobered up pretty damn fast when faced with a furious Aragorn, apparently, but then who wouldn't?

Included in amongst the letters, however, would be one to Corunír's immediate superior officer in the Gondorian guard with orders that Corunír had been volunteered to spend several months protecting Gondor's southern borders at the earliest opportunity, and certainly to have been sent on his way before the King returned to Minas Tirith.

It was still relatively unstable down in that neck of the woods and they needed all the manpower they could get. Not only that but Corunír _was_ a good soldier if a poor civilian and "clearly something of an indolent wastrel when not properly occupied" (which was, apparently, the least scathing of the comments Aragorn had made about him to Corunír's face). As a consequence, even though he was being humiliated by being 'sent home,' he was also being provided with a means by which he could prove his worth, have time to reflect, and perhaps win back favour from on high if he showed signs of genuine remorse, maturity and change. If not, well, then at least he was far enough away from the court for Aragorn not to have to deal with him firsthand or even on a regular basis.

"It seemed the most reasonable course," Faelon ended by saying. "He is left in no doubt that he has acted in a manner ill-fitting his station and most displeasing to the King and any right-thinking man, but his past has been taken into consideration and he has a means by which to make amends."

Halladan made a sort of snorting noise that indicated that Corunír had got off lightly as far as he was concerned and if the little toerag actually ever grew up enough to make amends he would happily eat his own boots.

"Speak of the devil," Penny muttered, in English. She had just looked up only to spot a certain young man coming towards them with a suitably shamefaced look about him.

"What do _you _want?"

Halladan had stepped forward immediately, looking ready to 'escort' Corunír from the vicinity by the scruff of his neck (and preferably unconscious) if given any possible excuse to do so.

Faelon laid a hand on Halladan's arm, looking not at Corunír but at who was accompanying him.

"Well met, Fimorndír," he said. "To what do we owe the honour of your company?"

"I believe Corunír has something he wishes to say," Fimorndír replied. "Forgive our intrusion, Lady Pen-ii," he inclined his head towards her as he spoke, "I realise this must be a little uncomfortable. I felt it best to accompany him over here if only to," he glanced at Halladan, "'smooth his approach' shall we say."

Everyone looked at Corunír who looked at the ground.

"Well?" Halladan said at last somewhat testily.

Corunír raised his gaze to Penny's right ear (with occasional glances at her face) as he spoke.

"I… I am deeply ashamed of my conduct last night, Lady Pen-ii. I am truly sorry. It was unforgivable. I brought shame on myself and on Gondor. You… you did not deserve to be so treated."

This last statement seemed to Penny to be the hardest for him to say and sounded more to her as if he had rehearsed it: as if it was what he felt should be said rather than his having any true conviction behind it. It was of note, perhaps, that without his characteristic wide, toothy smile he looked merely sullen and petulant.

"No, she did not," Halladan spat. "Lady Pen-ii is easily worth ten of you, you wretch. Even if you could not have seen that, then it should have been enough for you to know who she counts amongst her friends and protectors. It is bad enough that you showed so little respect to them, thought them of such little consequence, let alone insulted this lady and dared to lay your hand on her."

For a brief moment something in Corunír's eyes made it look as if he would like to reply to Halladan, only circumstances would not permit him to do so. Then he caught the furious glare Halladan had had fixed on him this whole time and, just as quickly, the mask of contrition came back down again. He looked at his feet once more without saying a word.

Frankly Penny felt that Corunír's apology was not wholly sincere. He was indeed sorry, perhaps, but more for the trouble he had got himself into (as well as possibly feeling genuinely embarrassed by his outrageous outburst whilst drunk) rather than having actually amended his opinion of her. She debated whether she should at least thank him for apologising if nothing else since undoubtedly it had been hard to do with Halladan, Faelon and Fimorndír staring him down as well as Aragorn's scathing opinion of him still ringing in his ears, but in the end she decided she could not do it. Stuff decorum or what might be expected of her: there were principles at stake; and if Halladan could still be this angry about it and Aragorn so appalled as to send this man (effectively) to the front line, then stuff Corunír too. Besides which Halladan had more or less answered in her place.

So she ignored him and turned to Fimorndír instead.

"It has been a pleasure to get to know you, my lord. Please send my love to Meresel and the children when you return. I miss them already. Tell her I shall write as soon as I reach Imladris."

Fimorndír returned her smile with a warm one of his own and thanked her. He stepped forward, kissed her hand and wished her every happiness in the north.

"Meresel shall be sad to learn you are not to return, but I know she only wishes you well, and she will be happy for you so long as you are happy wherever you might be. She considered you a true friend from the first, and loves you dearly." He paused, and when he continued he did not lower his voice or make any attempt to spare Corunír's blushes. "And I am truly sorry for my cousin's behaviour. I can only assure you in the strongest terms that, if his family has anything to do with it, he _will_ learn from this shameful episode."

Then he left, shepherding a still somewhat subdued Corunír with him.

"Arrogant pup," Halladan muttered with some venom as he watched Corunír leave.

"Indeed," Faelon agreed. He turned to Penny. "Leaving him behind will be no great loss, eh?" He grinned. "Are you all packed?"

Penny admitted she was but still had to get herself ready, so excused herself and headed off.

Just before she lost them from view she glanced back to see Halladan still glaring in the direction Corunír had disappeared in. She smiled. There was definitely something rather pleasing about having someone get quite so furious on your behalf.

By the time everything was packed away, the supplies augmented by various things Eomer had insisted on pressing upon them – such as casks of Rohirric beer (which the Dunedain were most pleased to see being loaded onto the horses, it had to be said) – and everyone was ready, quite a crowd had gathered to bid them farewell. Not only the locals, of course, but also the Gondorians from Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth were there to take their leave of the elves they had got to know as well as the Dunedain that many had fought alongside and then befriended in the months since the War had ended.

Even as Eomer and Eowyn arrived from the Meduseld, Prince Imrahil, Lord Faramir and Queen Arwen accompanying them as formality dictated, trays of silver cups were taken through the assembled groups of those leaving. Each cup had been filled with a rather strong spiced wine, and the serving women and boys carried more in silver jugs if needed. Everyone was to take at least one sip (several people sharing one cup in most cases) as was the Rohirric tradition by which visitors were bade farewell and wished a safe journey home.

Penny was at some remove from the head of the party, but could still see the moment when Eomer and Eowyn spoke to Merry. She could see him flush with pride as they gave him a small, silvered horn, and he had an air about him which seemed to suggest that he was trying not to bow his head with shyness but stand proud and look them both in the eye as their praise of him seemed to deserve. Indeed many of the Rohirrim came to shake his hand, or bow their heads, their hands across their chests, by way of both bidding him farewell as well as acknowledging his standing amongst them all for his feat on the field and the sterling duty and loyalty he had shown Theoden King on their journey here.

However, when she could catch sight of them, most of Penny's attention was focused on either Arwen or Elrond, both of whom seemed to be hanging back a little from the formal farewells (as well as each other, it had to be said).

Aragorn and Arwen were standing side by side the entire time the farewells were made and the stirrup cup drunk. Her brothers each came to kiss Arwen before mounting their steeds and making their way to the head of the train. Aragorn was the next to take his leave of her. His horse was brought to him by Faelon, whom he thanked and dismissed to his own horse. Then he turned to Arwen and said a few quiet words to her before cupping her face with one hand and kissing her cheek tenderly. Arwen smiled in reply, seemingly as if to try and reassure him. Her eyes kept glancing towards her father, though.

As Aragorn pulled himself up into his saddle, Celeborn and Galadriel came to their granddaughter. Galadriel hung back, allowing Celeborn to take his leave of her first. He kissed her brow and, just as Aragorn before him, seemed to try and reassure and comfort her. He stood back, his shoulder near touching Aragorn's knee, as Arwen then turned to Galadriel.

They held each other for quite some time, unmoving, and all the while Galadriel spoke softly to her. Then as she pulled back from her a little, she brushed Arwen's cheeks with her thumbs as if to dry the tears even as they fell, kissing her hair and holding her hand. Galadriel was smiling, albeit sadly, as she spoke and seemingly would not leave till at last Arwen had smiled in return, glancing up at Aragorn as she did so, no doubt in response to something her grandmother had said. When Galadriel finally turned to join Celeborn, though, for all she still smiled, her eyes spoke of her sadness; and, as she took Celeborn's hand and headed down the slope towards where their horses waited, they filled with tears.

Then, as at last they all set off to the sound of horns blowing from the walls of Edoras (and nearly every Rohirrim nearby, it seemed) and as Aragorn finally moved away, but only after exchanging one more glance with Arwen, after seeking reassurance once more that she would bear her pain in spite of his absence and that he should not worry, Arwen finally crossed over to where Elrond sat already astride his horse.

His head had been bowed, so he had not seen her approach, but as she neared him he looked up as if she had softly called out to him. She stepped forward to reach up and take his hand. Elrond looked into her eyes, perhaps saying words that none around them could hear, his lips not moving, before placing his other hand on her cheek as he stooped to kiss her brow. He looked at her for several moments more, then nodded almost imperceptibly before he let go of her hand, smiling sadly all the while. Then he turned his horse to follow his sons who were already on their way down the hill.

Eleniel came to stand beside Arwen, taking her hand in her own, and together they watched as the long train began to move. Penny did not need elvish eyesight to know Arwen was weeping.

Not till they were some way gone from Edoras did Elrond turn to take one last look at her still standing, still watching him go, though now only visible to an elf's keen sight from that distance. His face was etched in pain, his jaw tight and his eyes seemed filled with the weight of the many years and sorrows he had seen as he gazed in her direction for a full minute or so. Then at last he faced forward once more.

He did not look back again.

For all that day he rode in silence, his sons on either side of him, and few except those dearest to him said any word to him as they travelled but rather left him to his grief.

Those first few hours as they made their slow, inexorable way towards the mouth of the valley, then turned west to follow the line of the mountains, were amongst the most desperate Penny had known. For a good hour there was near total silence. The soft thud of the horses' hooves, the jangle and creak of bridles and loads on the horses' backs the loudest noises amongst them. There were occasional low murmurs from the Gondorians who travelled as one group, Aragorn amongst them and most of the Dunedain riding with them, but even that was subdued and sporadic.

There was no singing for quite some time.

Then at long last Lindir was the one to break the silence, though the song he sang was one of grief and loss. Another followed, singing of Luthien's choice, then another. Aragorn sat, silent and straight in his saddle all the while, though Penny suspected it was hard for him to hear them, to know its cause.

Penny started out riding beside Lindir, with Mireth and Celebdor walking nearby, but within an hour she had been joined by Halladan and Arvain, and she was grateful for their presence given the all-pervading mood amongst the elves for most of the morning. In the afternoon, after they had stopped all too briefly for their midday meal, she joined them both once more even though they were now in amongst the Dunedain. It made a pleasant change to have the occasional song from a mortal then, though they were as careful in their choices of subjects as the elves had been when the funeral party had set out that first time from Minas Tirith. Thus several Dunedain sang long ballads about ancient tales involving their own ancestors and the Gondorians replied with some equally ancient song involving centuries-old battles with the Haradhrim.

The sun shone bright, the sky a clear blue as they travelled. It was a beautifully fine day, horribly incongruous with the feeling within the party. Clouds were building above the mountains, however, and Halladan was not the only one to glance at them and predict rain for the following day. When they finally made camp they did so huddled under the eaves of a wood that nestled up against the foothills of the mountains, as much to provide some shelter for the horses if it rained in the night as most there seemed to think it would.

That evening was amongst the strangest Penny had ever known. The elvish camp was filled with song for the first time in days, but they were all long, low laments. It was not quite the same as when Gandalf had fallen, Legolas explained to her as they sat together at the Dunedain fire. After all, Arwen was not dead, and there were several there even amongst the elves who would see her again, himself included. Indeed for Aragorn no less than his brothers-in-law or even Lord Celeborn, it must have been strange indeed (if not strangely upsetting) to have so many round them in effect mourning one they loved so well and would see all too soon (in their respective relative terms, of course).

That said, for those who would not see her once more then this was much like the first blow of grief. However much they had known of her choice for years, however much they had known from when she and her brothers were born that such a choice would lie before each of the three children of Elrond, this was their time to express their sorrow at knowing they would never see her again, and not merely in the usual sense whereby the elvish fea would go West and wait in Mandos' Halls to be reborn when it felt so ready. No, Arwen was lost in the way that all mortals were lost to them, and who knew if they would even see her once more after the world was unmade.

Little wonder, then, that Aragorn spent much of that night in the company of the Dunedain.

He sat silent, staring into the fire, a tankard of Rohirric ale in his hand that he managed to make last for the entire evening. Few spoke to him, leaving him to his own thoughts, but each time someone near him started up on a tale or piece of poetry he looked up and smiled gratefully, no doubt glad of the distraction. It was perhaps of note that none amongst the mortals sang that night but left all songs to the elves as was, perhaps, their right.

The elves were left pretty much to themselves that evening – all others huddled round the Dunedain fire, or else making up their own fires in their own sections of the camp. All were muted and subdued in their talk –an instinctive reaction to what else was going on around them as much as a conscious sign of respect.

Gandalf stayed with the elves, doing what he could to comfort them and reassure them. Indeed there was no great communal gathering of the elves that night. Rather most wandered in small groups into the woods, or else sat individually or in small numbers here and there about the camp. It was a time for reflection on their loss.

As for Penny, even though she felt deeply for Aragorn, sat in silence as he was only yards away from her, it was Elrond who most occupied her thoughts. She was not even sure why he more than Galadriel who, of course, was in much the same position as him. She too had nearly lost her daughter, just as he had nearly lost his wife. She too had seen terrible things in her long lifetime. She too would never see Arwen again. Even so, Galadriel, when Penny occasionally spotted her, whilst clearly sorrowing, still seemed strong and serene. She also had Celeborn to comfort her – her equal, her partner. Elrond, yes, had his close companions, his sons, but it might have been easier to bear his pain, perhaps, if Celebrian had been with him.

One thing that Penny could not get out of her head was that he had to sail West and tell Celebrian the news that Arwen would not be following behind him.

As she listened to the choral swell of voices from here and there, some singing the same tune, others singing entirely different ones, and yet all combining to create a strangely beautiful, haunting and sorrowful whole, she had never felt more overcome with a sense of loss. Given this was coming hard on the heels of her own confrontation of her own grief in Edoras, it made it that much more painful, since she could empathise that much more.

In the end she found it more than she could bear and excused herself from the company even though it was still relatively early. Nor was she in the least bit surprised to find her tent empty when she got there, nor to have no sign of the other occupants for the long hours she lay awake on her bedroll unable to entirely shut out the singing as best she might. She had no idea what time Mireth and the others finally came to rest, but it was far later than usual.

The next morning Penny woke up to find the heavens had opened in the night. The ground was sodden, the clouds low and while it was not raining as heavily as it had been at dawn (so she was informed), it was still raining enough to make sure breakfast was cursory and had inside the tents or under the shelter of the trees. It also meant no morning cup of tea (which upset the hobbits nearly as much as it annoyed Penny, it had to be said).

It was not the best way to start the day, especially not after the dismal tone in the camp the night before.

Mireth lent Penny a spare cloak that she assured Penny would keep out the wet even though it was seemed far too thin a material. Penny knew better than to question elvish craftsmanship (given it could border on the 'magical' at times) and accepted it gratefully, wrapping it round herself and pulling the hood up before she made a dash for the treeline and the general position of her mare.

She did not envy those having to dismantle the tents and awnings in this weather.

That the rain showed no sign of stopping any time soon did nothing to lighten the mood amongst them all as they rode or trudged along under the glowering skies. Thunder boomed in the nearby mountains and there was the occasional lightning flash way up above them. Penny sincerely hoped that the storm would not travel their way and tried not to think about the number of people she was riding in amongst who had umpteen metal objects about their person. About the only thing that could be said for the weather was that, despite the rain, it was not too cold.

Of course, given the persistent rain, it did mean that the Dunedain, mostly riding in one group for much of the morning (though one or two did mingle with the Imladris elves on occasion), all had their dark grey cloaks wrapped about them with the hoods up, obscuring their faces for the large part. Every man among them had his cloak fastened by a silver star-shaped pin on his left shoulder. They were quite a sight and every bit the "Grey Company" that Penny knew so well of old.

It was strangely surreal for her to see them like that since it meant that for first time Penny got a true flash of insight into a moment from the War: how they must have appeared to the Rohirrim when they had first arrived from the north. Indeed from the moment they had left Edoras they were travelling back on exactly the route the Dunedain had taken all those many months before, riding hard and fast, the wind at their heels and a desperate urgency driving them on. They would be back-tracking on themselves from now on for almost the entire journey home.

Only this time, of course, they were missing seven amongst their number.

Slowly the party made their way along the well-worn trail that led from Edoras to Helm's Deep, keeping close to the mountains as they snaked up and down their foothills, through briar and copse, and across many fords that crossed the rivers and streams that flowed down from the mountain valleys. Of course the watercourses were running fast and full with the current weather, but the fords were well established and well maintained and still relatively shallow for the most part even after the hours of rain. Despite that, each time they came to one, many of those on foot doubled up on horseback nonetheless. After all: an elf prefers not to get his finely crafted elvish boots wet if he can possibly help it. The Dunedain to a man, chuckling and shaking their heads, actually offered their horses to those elves without one and happily splashed through the streams beside them without batting an eyelid, even if the water was running at calf height. Such things were all in a day's work to a Ranger.

The morning's travel was much like the previous day's – with a subdued feeling to everything. The elves sang, but their songs still spoke of loss, though perhaps on broader subjects now such as loss in battle or those who had faded through sorrow. Penny's gaze returned to Elrond time and again whenever she caught sight of him. He still seemed to hold himself proud and tall, an air of seriousness about him, but his expression spoke of how troubled he was, that and the gentle attention shown to him by those around him: his sons, Erestor, Glorfindel and Gandalf in particular.

Celeborn and Galadriel rode with him for much of the day, though they spoke little. Indeed for an hour or two in both the morning and the afternoon Aragorn rode near him also, indeed they rode side by side for several miles more than once. Aragorn's part in it all had long been forgiven and Penny was glad to see it.

Lunch was had under the cover of some trees, but by then the rain was beginning to ease. Patches of blue could be seen in the distance and within an hour or so of setting off once more, the drizzle had finally ceased and the sun was breaking through the clouds once more.

That evening they made camp early and near to a wide tributary of the Entwash so that bathing could take place.

As she and Mireth readied themselves in their tent, gathering together their soap, shampoo, towels and clean clothes, Penny tried to talk to her, to ask how she was faring, but could not find the words to do so. Mireth, however, seemed to guess what Penny was trying to say when Penny stayed her by the arm but then said nothing, merely opened her mouth a few times only to close it again with furrowed brows.

"Do not be concerned, Pen-ii. I am sorrowful, yes, but the pain will pass," she reassured her. "We long knew this time would come. It has been hard to have seen it, but I am glad to… to have had the chance to have said goodbye, to tell her how much I love her, to let her know I shall miss her terribly…"

Mireth ran out of words herself at that point. Penny hugged her before the two then wordlessly made their way down to the river hand in hand.

Nor were they the only ones to wander through the bushes and trees to the riverbanks in silence. Indeed it was the first bathing session on their journey so far that Penny had known with little to no talking or song, even on the bank. However, the lack of much social chit-chat delaying matters did mean that the river was clear that much quicker than usual for the males to then bathe in their turn. Nor was it just the ellyn who took the opportunity to wash the dust of travel from themselves: it was that much more pleasant to be able to change out of damp, rained-on clothes into clean, dry ones if you had had a good scrub down beforehand, after all.

The evening passed in much the same manner as the previous one. The evening meal was relatively communal and afterwards many stayed where they were talking quietly or else listening to the same sort of sad, slow songs as had been sung all day. Elrond was amongst them for a little while. Celeborn and Galadriel were seated near him, his sons tending to him and fetching him cups of wine or else keeping those around him busy with conversation so he might be left to his own thoughts if he so chose.

Once or twice someone might pass by and cast him a sympathetic look, or gently touch him on the shoulder or the arm, but no more than that. There were no words that could truly express the sympathy everyone there felt for his situation. Besides which, as Mireth had said, for all they were sad for their loss they had known it was coming and had had time to prepare themselves. Indeed what was going on these past few days was something like a cathartic release of sorrow, more than a _true_ mourning or grieving (as had been done in Lothlorien when they had learnt of Gandalf's fall). Even so, those who would see Arwen once more kept themselves at one remove for the most part. Thus later in the evening even Elrond's sons, when not tending to their father, joined the mortal company that had gradually wandered over to sit at the Dunedain fire as on the previous night.

For the time being, however, they stayed with the elves until Elrond left the company and headed for his tent. Erestor and Gandalf went with him, with Celeborn and Galadriel only a few minutes behind him.

Penny, sitting with Lindir and Mireth, watched him go. For two days and two evenings now her thoughts had been almost entirely focused on him. She had seen the few moments of people showing him sympathy and comfort, seen the gentle attention of his sons, the occasional, soft word in his direction from Gandalf – it was clear how much pain he was in. She knew it was not her place, and yet at the same time, knowing his story so well, having felt for him so deeply for so many years, there was something deep within her that desperately wanted to say something to him, desperately wanted to let him know that she, and countless others from her time, cared and cared deeply about his current situation.

Not only that.

The general sense of loss amongst most of the elves, the songs they sang, the communal act of grieving, or expressing their sadness at least, was also having an effect on her. It was not only that her own grief helped her to empathise but to be surrounded by others feeling something similar was a double-edged sword. True, it was strangely cathartic for her to lose herself for a while in their expressions of loss when she could bear to do so, but many there had no notion of her situation (which was also so very different to theirs) and it meant that, when push came to shove, she could not exactly 'join in' or find any true 'release' for her pain as they were managing to do.

The longer their sorrow continued, the more an acute awareness of her own loss built within her without any outlet for expression. She was beginning to feel somewhat overwrought to say the least.

Perhaps it was that that meant she felt for Elrond so keenly – her own heightened sense of emotion due to personal circumstances. Whatever the case, when she finally felt she could bear it no more and had to escape to sit with the Dunedain for the rest of the evening, she found herself wandering in the direction of Elrond's tent on her way to their fire.

Those who had first followed him there earlier in the evening had returned to company round the fire as far as she knew, and she found herself turning over and over in her head whether, given he was now possibly on his own in his tent, she should not at least take the opportunity to express, if not condolences, then at least some sort of acknowledgement that she felt for him and his loss. She remembered how he had turned away from her when he had briefly spoken of Arwen's fate to her that time they had sat in the embrasure in Minas Tirith, how it obviously had pained him even then to mention it. His unusual reticence and reserve, his withdrawal from the general company since they had left Edoras showed how much this hurt him, for all he understood and accepted it, for all he had had all those years to prepare himself.

But then he had been through this before: Penny did not doubt for one moment he was as much remembering and mourning his brother right now as he was Arwen.

It was out of the question, though. He needed time and space, and even those who had known him for long years were not imposing themselves on him. Seeing the occasional gesture or word others had given him she had wished she could find a way to do the same but knew instinctively such things would only be appropriate coming from his equal, and she most certainly was not that; and not because of anything that had happened between them in Minas Tirith. It was a simple fact, that was all.

Thus when she got to within a few yards of his tent, sanity prevailed. She knew intruding on him was entirely the wrong thing to do. She stopped, stared at the tent entrance for several seconds lost in thoughts of what he must be going through and how much she felt for him right at that moment. Then she turned around and headed back the way she had come.

As she did so, however, she very nearly walked straight into two ellyn who she had not realised were only a few feet behind her.

"Oh! Elladan! Elrohir! I did not see you…!"

The brothers looked at her, their gazes equally curious. She looked back, somewhat startled but also feeling strangely guilty at having been 'not quite caught in the act.'

"Did you wish to speak to Father?" Elrohir expression was gentle, if a little knowing as he asked.

"N-no, no."

"You are quite sure?" Elladan asked in his turn. "Was it important? Could we help?"

"No, in truth I was just on my way to join Halladan and the others," Penny replied falteringly.

She could not help a guilty half-glance behind her in the direction of Elrond's tent as she said this, though.

"It would be best to leave him for the time being, Pen-ii" Elrohir said softly, and not unkindly. "I am sure you understand."

Penny nodded.

"Yes. Yes, of course. I realise. I was not going to… I know, of course, it would not be appropriate…"

"He needs some time, that is all," Elladan explained.

Elrohir was already walking past her when he turned back to her.

"We shall let him know that you were…," he hesitated as if looking for the right way of putting it, "thinking of him. I am sure he would be most touched to know of it."

Penny smiled gratefully.

"Thank you, Elrohir."

Elladan bowed his head slightly as he came to stand by his brother.

"You are most welcome, Pen-ii. And we thank you for your concern on his behalf."

And with that they both headed towards their father's tent.

Penny turned away, making her way towards the Dunedain fire, feeling both relieved that she had not been so foolish as to try and see Elrond as well as grateful that Elladan and Elrohir had not only guessed at what she had half-considered but also been so understanding and kind about it. That they would pass on her sentiments to Elrond on her behalf was also far better than anything else she could have thought of (which would have invariably necessitated her intruding on his distress in some way and thus were to be rejected entirely out of hand).

However it did not end there.

No more than half an hour later Elrohir arrived at the fire, spotted Penny and made straight for her.

"Pen-ii? He is asking for you."

It was all he said, but Penny immediately knew who he meant. Judging from the look Aragorn gave her, so did he, as did Halladan and Arvain who were sitting beside her and exchanged a glance before looking up at Elrohir in some surprise.

Penny blinked at Elrohir. He was clearly waiting to escort her back with him. She stood up in some confusion.

"Should we be there also?" Halladan asked, indicating his brother as he spoke. "As her guardians?"

"He did not ask for you, Halladan. You are welcome to accompany me if you so wish, but I am sure he will send for you if he feels you are needed. In truth I do not know myself what this is concerning."

Elrohir threw Penny a reassuring smile, though his last few words had not reassured her in the least. She glanced at Halladan, feeling not a little worried now. Halladan nodded his understanding at Elrohir and stayed put, gesturing to Penny that she should fellow Elrohir as he had requested.

"We will be here if you need us."

Whether that was said to her or to Elrohir, Penny was not wholly sure.

She tried not to catch Aragorn's eye as she left.

When they reached the tent Elrohir motioned for her to stay outside for a moment as he went in. Penny could hear him saying 'I have brought her, Ada,' just before the tent flap fell shut and cut off whatever else was said inside. Almost immediately, however, the flap opened once more and Elrohir beckoned for her to come in. Penny did so somewhat apprehensively.

Inside Elrond was seated on cushions to one side of the tent, a cup of wine in his hand and Elladan beside him.

"Ah, Pen-ii. Good. Thank you for coming."

Elrond's smile was thin, formal. He was trying to make an effort in spite of his current mood.

He indicated a space on the cushions next to Elladan.

"Come. Sit."

Then he turned to Elladan.

"Would you mind leaving us, Elladan? You too, Elrohir?"

There was the briefest of glances exchanged between his sons before both inclined their heads with a murmured 'of course, Father' and then both left. Elladan gave Penny a somewhat unreadable look as he passed by her.

"Would you care for some wine?" Elrond asked her once she was seated.

"No, I thank you."

A brief silence fell. Penny felt nervous as hell. She had been wary enough before but once he had sent his sons out so they were entirely alone she had felt her heart start to beat that much faster. Just what on earth was this all about?

She looked at him, staring into his cup for a moment, the weight of years in his face. It seemed so very strange, and rather distressing, to see a face so young look, well, so _old_.

"My sons told me of what happened earlier." Only now did he look up at her. "Thank you for the sentiment, Pen-ii. I am grateful to you."

The smile he gave her was so filled with sadness that Penny felt her throat tighten and her eyes prickle in spite of herself. She could find no words, just nodded.

His gaze slid away from her and there was a pause before he spoke again, his voice quiet but desperately serious.

"Tell me what happens at Cerin Amroth."

_What?! _

Penny felt as if someone had kicked her in the gut. She was speechless. Her mind reeled. She could not believe what he had just said, refused to believe it, was having difficulty processing it. She had not quite known what to expect him say, but that had most certainly not been it.

Penny was looking at him in absolute shock. Elrond looked back calmly as if gauging her reaction to his request, reading much from her facial expression alone.

At last Penny came to her senses. This was impossible! There was no way she could tell him of such things, and yet for him to ask, let alone for him to have insisted they be left by themselves before he did so, he must have had some inkling of what her answer would involve.

"Pen-ii, I am sorry if I have startled you, but I must insist on an answer. What is the significance of Cerin Amroth? I have thought long and hard on this, and I would not ask this of you if I was not certain I wanted to know the answer. Do not tell me there is no significance in it; do not dissemble. I saw the look you and Arwen shared when we passed by there in Lothlorien. I know, or can guess, part of what your answer will be."

"Why?" And her voice cracked even as she asked. She was more upset by this than by anything in the past few days. "Why ask this of me? I… I cannot. Please do not ask this of me."

He took her hand, looked into her eyes.

"Sometimes it is easier to face the known than fear the unknown. I know full well what I ask of you. Do you forget I know what it is to bear true knowledge of the fate of those I love? Answer me, and I will explain to you more fully. Please, Pen-ii, tell me of Cerin Amroth."

She knew he was in earnest. She knew he would not let her leave till she had told him. She had no choice.

"I would not for the world speak of this to you."

"I know."

A tear fell onto her cheek and she could see his eyes were wet also.

"Tell me."

"She… Cerin Amroth is where…" She dropped her head, unable to look him in the eye, struggling to hold back the tears, as her voice fell to a whisper. "It is where she will die."

There was no sound from Elrond but she felt his hold on her hand tighten almost painfully. When she glanced up at him she could see his eyes were shut as if he was struggling to contain his emotions. He was nodding slightly, as if her words had been more of a confirmation of his suspicions than anything new to him. Then he let go of her hand, bringing his hand to his forehead, even as he rested his elbow on his knee.

"She lives a long and happy life," she continued suddenly, her tone urgent, desperate to try and reassure in the midst of all this pain. "Hers is a great love, Elrond. She and Aragorn… they will be so happy together. Theirs will be a glorious reign, a Golden Age for Gondor and all of Arda, such as it has not known in long years. They… they will have many daughters."

He looked up at her at last.

"And a son. Eldarion. He shall be a great king like his father before him."

She was trying to smile through her tears at him and he was returning it, albeit hesitantly.

"Daughters? A son?"

She nodded.

The smile broadened a little, if sadly and somewhat ruefully.

"I shall be sorry not get to know them for myself."

"Elladan and Elrohir will tell you all about them, I am sure."

He nodded. "That shall please Celebrian, to know she has granddaughters."

It pleased Penny enormously to hear him say that, let alone to hear him mention her so easily in her presence. She could well imagine his thoughts had turned to Celebrian often in the last few days.

"But you did not explain, Pen-ii, how came she to be there? What happened? You say she lives a long life?"

He was not looking at her but at some point ahead of him, waiting for her answer.

"Aragorn and Arwen… theirs is a love that becomes history. They are remembered as Luthien and Beren and Tuor and Idril were before them. Their love never wavers, and they shall be truly happy. Aragorn shall live a long life, long even in the years of the Dunedain. In him will be something like the Numenoreans reborn. But at long last he will know it is his time. He knows his history. He knows to cling to life, to power, to wait till he is infirm in mind and body is not the thing to do. At long last he will accept it is time to lie down and sleep the sleep of the dead."

Elrond nodded. He was still in profile to her so she could not gauge his reaction to any of this.

"Arwen… Arwen will do her best to persuade him not to, but he will tell her he has no choice, that it is his time at last. She… she will be distressed at his passing."

Elrond hung his head.

"She will not regret her decision. She loves him to the last, never once looks back."

She knew he was weeping now, silent, slow tears tracing down his cheeks.

"She will say farewell to her children, refusing all escort, and make her way to Lothlorien. A year after Aragorn dies, she will lay herself down on Cerin Amroth, the place where they plighted their troth centuries before, and there she will…"

Her voice trailed off into silence. For quite some time the only sound was the soft, shuddering breaths from Elrond as he tried to maintain his composure.

"She will find his passing hard to bear."

Penny nodded, though she knew he was not looking at her, probably talking more to himself than her.

At last he turned to her.

"Thank you. I know this was hard for you, and I would not have put you in this position only… I feared so much that she might not have the choice of when, that life might be torn from her. It happened so nearly to… I wanted to make certain, to have that reassurance. Forgive me if this was difficult for you, it certainly was difficult for me to hear it, and painful, but despite that you have eased my heart, Pen-ii, and it will help me to think on what you have told me in my grief. I can leave knowing that she will be as happy as her mother and I, that she will know a love deep and true. She will live as good and as long a life as I could have hoped for in her circumstances. That will do much to ease the pain of leaving her behind me when I sail West."

"I am glad this could be of some small comfort to you in your distress."

And she meant it. The words fell out of her like some courteous, automatic formality, but she meant them. She was somewhat bewildered and upset by it all, but she was glad that in some way she had helped him.

"Time is a healer, Pen-ii. It is something we elves have in abundance, of course. The wounds never fully recede, but the pain eases over time." He looked at her once more. "I should know, after all."

She did not know what to say. Another silence fell between them.

"And what of you, Pen-ii?"

"Me?"

"What of your hurts? I am sure these last few days and weeks have been just as hard for you. So much grieving and remembrance around you, how could it not be so? I have lost a daughter, but you… you have lost everything you have ever known."

It cut too near the bone. With everything she had been feeling the past few days, let alone the last few harrowing minutes, for him to hit straight to the heart of the matter was too much. She felt emotion overwhelm her then, tears spilling hot and fast before she could stop them, though she fought against them as best she could.

"Ai, Pen-ii," he breathed, a look of such tender sympathy in his face as he took her hand that it only made the tears fall faster. "You have had so much to think about, so, so much. Only now you realise, perhaps, the enormity of your situation." He nodded. "It can happen. Grief can be delayed and sometimes hit all the harder because of it. You have made good friends, Pen-ii, those that love you well already. Use them. Talk to them. Believe me when I tell you that it is best to express such pain if you can find a way than to attempt to struggle alone. I know you know that." He paused and gestured vaguely in the direction of the tent entrance. "You hear their song? That is their way, _our_ way, of coming to terms with our pain. You must find your own way also."

"But everyone has been through so much. They have lost those they love in battle, in terrible ways, but my family are not dead…!"

"Do not compare, Pen-ii. Your grief is no less valid than anyone else's. Indeed to have that finality, that ability to say farewell, to bury the dead, that is part of the healing process, but unfortunately you have not had that. And you have lost so much more than family and friends. We know, we understand how difficult this has been for you. We remember how you raged in Imladris; we realise how constrained you have felt by a society so very different to your own. Do not consider your pain any less or any less worthy than anyone else's simply because it is different, if not unique."

"But…"

"No, Pen-ii," and he was surprisingly firm as he spoke, his own grief and pain suddenly put to one side for a moment. "I insist upon this. You will only do yourself more hurt if you do not try and understand me. You will only hurt those who already care for you all the more if you refuse to accept what I am telling you." He was trying to catch her eye as he spoke, trying to make it clear he was in earnest. "Grieve for them, Pen-ii. Remember them, mourn them and make your peace with your situation. Please."

She nodded, tears still falling, albeit slower now.

"Promise me, Pen-ii"

"I promise you, Lord Elrond."

He nodded once, satisfied with her answer and that she had meant it sincerely. He cupped her cheek for a moment and smiled, if sadly.

"Come, enough of this. I have no desire to upset you any more than I knew this talk might do so already. Forgive me. Let us get some air and look at the stars and remind ourselves that time moves on, for better or for worse."

Even as he spoke, however, his name was called loudly from outside.

"Come."

Elrohir appeared.

"Forgive me, Father, but Erestor and Grandfather were wondering if…"

"All is well, Elrohir, tell them to come in. We are finished here." He glanced back at Penny, smiling reassuringly. As he did so Erestor and Celeborn entered, Elrohir and Elladan behind them. Elrond and Penny got to their feet. Erestor, Celeborn, Elrohir and Elladan were struggling to keep their curiosity under control, looking from Penny to Elrond and back again.

Penny suddenly felt horribly awkward.

"I should probably get back to the others," she muttered.

"But of course, Pen-ii." Elrond inclined his head. "And thank you once again. Truly you have done me a great service."

Penny nodded and smiled awkwardly before muttering her apologies at the others and fleeing the tent. She knew it was all too likely that her ears were burning the moment she left.

However, that was not her main focus as she hurried back to the Dunedain fire. Instead she was thinking over what Elrond had spoken of at the last, what he had asked of her. The elvish songs of loss and grief were floating round her as she passed through the camp, stirring up those same emotions and, on top of everything she had just been through, she was close to tears once more when she finally reached the circle of people sitting and chatting quietly at one edge of the camp.

She hesitated, unsure that she was really up to just sitting down in amongst them as if nothing untoward had happened in the last half hour at all. She made to turn away, thinking she might head back to her tent, but it was too late. She had been spotted.

"Pen-ii!"

Halladan was on his feet even as he called out to her, a smile on his face. Arvain was not far behind him

She stopped, at an utter loss as to whether to leave or stay, to speak or remain silent, trying not to cry and at the same time wanting to weep till she howled.

Halladan had reached her, could see the state she was in by the distant fire's glow. His smile faded.

"Pen-ii?"

His voice was quiet, his expression concerned. She looked up at him, saw the compassion on his face and lost it completely.

As Arvain joined them she was already sobbing into Halladan's chest, his arms wrapped around her.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

The stirrup cup is something usually more associated with riding to hounds, where a cup of wine is drunk before the beginning of a hunt. However, its basis is in the Scottish Highlands where it was a farewell drink shared by the hosts and the visitors before the visitors left for home. It is clear that the latter was what Tolkien was thinking of when he had the Rohirrim use a similar thing.

In the chapter "Many Partings" (Return of the King), Eowyn and Eomer speak to Merry, embrace him and present him with a small silver horn with a green baldric, with riders and runes of virtue engraved on it:- "'This is an heirloom of our house,' said Eowyn. 'It was made by the Dwarves, and came from the hoard of Scatha the Worm. Eorl the Young brought it from the North. He that blows it at need shall set fear in the hearts of his enemies and joy in the hearts of his friends, and they shall hear and him and come to him.'" Merry goes on to use the horn to rally the hobbits to fight back against the men and 'Sharkey' when they return to the Shire.

For those that might not be familiar with the books: the Dunedain (and Elladan and Elrohir), having journeyed south via the remnants of the Greenway and through the Gap of Rohan, met up with Aragorn and the others just after they had crossed the Fords of Isen (when Aragorn and Theoden were returning from Isengard, Gandalf having just left them all to ride south to Gondor with Pippin). The Dunedain accompanied Aragorn to Helm's Deep where Halbarad alone joined him as he looked into the Palantir and wrested it from Sauron's control. Once he had revealed himself to Sauron he knew he had to move and move fast – hence his separating from Theoden to take the Paths of the Dead (as Elrond had advised him to do in a message he sent via his sons). He, Elrond's sons, Legolas, Gimli and the Dunedain thus took the overland route to Edoras and then Dunharrow (behind which was the way to the Paths of the Dead) so they could ride flat out and get there in little more than a day, whereas Theoden, Eomer, Merry and the Rohirrim took the mountain route which would take them three days to get to Edoras. So, the moment they left Edoras the Dunedain were, in effect, retracing their steps. The only exception to this will be the detour via Isengard after they cross the Fords of Isen.

For what it's worth: one day, when this fic is finally finished, I intend to write 'Elrond arriving in the West to be met by Celebrian only for him then to have to tell her of Arwen's fate.' It's a scene/moment that's haunted me for a good long while.

The reference to 'Aragorn knowing his history' is regarding the kings of Numenor. Like them, he can 'choose' when to lie down to die. Holding on till you are utterly decrepit and senile is what happened more than once – a choice made through selfishness and a desire to hold on to power than any wisdom or sense of good rule. It was one of many things that led the Numenoreans down the slippery slope that led to their taking Sauron as a friend and advisor, worshipping Melkor, challenging the Valar and ended in Numenor itself being thrown into the sea.

As ever, my sincere apologies for the length of time writing chapters takes these days. RL, as ever, makes writing time extremely limited. Also a huge thank you to all those who are still reading, or have only just started reading this (which given the length this thing now is, is a feat in itself), and especially to those who take time out to leave reviews, comments or get in touch. It's much appreciated.


	45. Down Deep

**Chapter 45** – _"Down Deep" _

Penny was profusely apologetic once she had finally got herself under some sort of control. She was also reticent about what it was that was troubling her. For all she knew full well what she had just promised Elrond (and she would indeed fulfill that promise as best she could), she was loath to dump her grief on these two young men who were already battling with their own bereavement. Not only that, now was not the time: she knew she was not ready to talk about any of this without collapsing into a weeping puddle and making a spectacle of herself. She had to come to terms with it in herself first; only then could she find the words to express it.

Now was not the moment, nor were these the right people, so she told herself.

Arvain tried to press her, but a hard look from Halladan silenced his insistence. He opened his mouth to respond but realised he was on a hiding to nothing and left it at that.

Arvain did ask what Elrond had wanted, though. Penny felt there was nothing to be hidden, that even if there were she could trust the two of them to be discreet, but she still kept her answer general: she told them he had asked about Arwen's future and what little she knew of it. She did not mention that he had wanted to know in particular about her death.

"He wanted reassurance, I think, that she lives a long and happy life. That was all."

She tried a faltering smile. Something in Halladan's look told her he realised there was more to it all than that, that it was not only Arwen's fate that had had her so distressed. She felt slightly guilty all of a sudden, if not strangely uncomfortable, as if she was being dishonest.

"I… He asked me how I fared, that was all," she murmured at last, looking down at her hands. "He guessed very near to how I am feeling, how everything in Rohan has left me feeling, let alone now being surrounded by the elves… as they are right now. I had not expected it. It was upsetting, brought a lot of things to the surface."

The two men said nothing, guessing that it was best to let her meander to the point in her own way rather than risk interrupting.

However, instead of carrying on with her train of thought, she took a deep breath, looked up and forced a smile at them both. She was damned if she was going to discuss loss of family and grief with these two unless she absolutely had to.

"I am sorry if I alarmed you. Please, could we talk about something else?"

"Of course, Pen-ii." Halladan inclined his head.

"But…" Arvain looked at his brother.

"Come and sit by the fire with us," Halladan continued, making no sign that he had heard his brother. "The tales are wonderfully distracting. King Elessar was saying exactly that a little before you joined us, was he not, Arvain?"

"Er, yes. Yes, he was."

Arvain was throwing glances between Halladan and Penny, seemingly not entirely convinced that this was the best strategy, but Halladan was already leading the way, Penny following gratefully in his wake, so Arvain had little choice in the matter.

Back at the fire, Penny tried to focus on the tales, if only so as not to be so aware of the elves' singing. However in truth she was easily distracted from both tale and song, lost as she was in her own thoughts for the rest of the evening, staring into the flickering flames, not even noticing if Halladan, Arvain or anyone else tried to get her attention nor that Aragorn was throwing her curious glances every now and then. At one point Arvain managed to press a cup of wine into her hand at which she started slightly, smiled and thanked him before quickly returning to her silent contemplation.

After a while she could feel herself falling asleep even where she sat, so she muttered her excuses and left, still somewhat preoccupied.

She had left her wine nearly untouched.

The next two days of travel passed in much the same way as the first two had done. The countryside changed little and their route remained much the same in that they meandered ever eastward through the foothills of the White Mountains, fording countless fast streams as they did so. The only noticeable change was that the Misty Mountains moved ever closer to them on their right.

Aragorn alternated his time riding with his men – both Gondorian and Dunadan – and Elrond. Elrond seemed relatively unchanged, though he was perhaps talking a little more (or people felt more able to approach him). The few times Penny was near him and they caught each other's eye, Elrond would nod his head slightly in acknowledgement and they would share brief, sad, sympathetic smiles before going about their business.

In the evenings the elves did seem to be making a little bit more of an effort to be sociable. The general gathering of people after the evening meal round the main elvish fire started once more, rather than everyone disappearing off into small groups or to wander nearby. The outpouring of sorrow was slowly changing into a melancholy celebration of the elleth Arwen was, the wife, the Queen and, likely as not, the mother she would become, as well as the love she bore for a great and noble man.

Penny tried her best to be talkative and act as normal, but it was fairly clear to all who knew her well that she was not quite her usual self. The mood amongst the elves was affecting all those in the camp, naturally enough, but even Lindir and Mireth, occupied though they were by having left behind a friend whom they would never see again, were aware that Penny seemed quiet. She would also spend time alone in her tent, or else on the edge of the encampment, staring up at the stars or out into the dark countryside for hours at a time, which was not like her.

Two nights after she had had her conversation with Elrond, it was noted by Faelon that it was the second night running they had seen almost nothing of Penny at the Dunedain fire. Arvain admitted he had not seen her since the evening meal during which she had eaten little and said less, but Halladan said she had murmured something about going to sit with the elves for a while. He got to his feet even as he was talking.

"I will go and see if I can find her," he said, heading off in the direction of the elvish fire.

Halladan discovered that Mireth had not actually seen Penny for quite a while and that she had only sat with the elves for a very short time. When Mireth realised Penny had not headed back to sit with the Dunedain as she had assumed, she became concerned, telling Halladan that when Penny had finally returned to their tent the previous night her eyes had been red from weeping. Lindir, overhearing, commented that Penny had been unusually quiet all that day when he had ridden beside her and Celebdor agreed with him.

Mireth said she would check their tent whilst Lindir joined Halladan on a search round the camp. It was Lindir and Halladan who found her.

She was sitting a good few yards from the edge of the most westerly side of the camp, nearest the Gondorian tents as it happened. There was a line of trees there along the edge of the low hill on which they had camped, and she had her back up against one, staring out into the valley below, though little could be seen of it in the dark. She had a clear view of the night sky, though, and at first Lindir and Halladan both had the same thought – that she was merely enjoying the stars and a moment alone.

Then they both heard the quiet, shuddering breath and knew she was crying.

"Pen-ii?"

It was Lindir who spoke but she did not hear him. He and Halladan looked at each other and Lindir nodded for Halladan to go ahead and be the one to approach her. He did so, with Lindir following him.

"Pen-ii?"

She heard Halladan. They could both see her start slightly, then hurriedly wipe at her cheeks before turning round a little. She seemed surprised to see both of them.

"We do not wish to intrude, Pen-ii," Lindir said, his voice soft. "Only no one had seen you at either of the main fires for some time."

"I… I just wanted to be alone a little while, that was all, Lindir. Really, it is nothing."

Another glance was exchanged between the two males. Halladan seemed to be deferring to Lindir, trusting his innate elvish instincts and years of experience.

"Mireth is worried about you."

Halladan noted Lindir did not tell her they were just as concerned.

"Oh."

Penny felt a little guilty that she had never summoned up the courage to tell Mireth and Eleniel the full truth about her story. She had kept it from so many for so long, only told Lindir because he had left her with little choice, and now… now it seemed way too late to try and explain things. Of course, it did mean, for all Mireth was her friend, she was limited in what she could talk about and share with her.

"May we join you?"

Lindir was already closing the gap between them and sat down beside her before she could properly respond. Again Halladan followed his lead, coming round the tree to sit on the other side of her. Glancing at Penny as he did so it was clear she was a little uncomfortable with them being there. Halladan could well recognise that feeling himself, but he trusted Lindir knew what he was doing.

"You know, I can remember spending long nights like this," Lindir mused quietly at last after they had sat a little while in silence, "when I came back from Mordor."

Halladan could feel Penny stiffen next to him, as if she too had instantly realised what Lindir was referring to.

"Just thinking, musing… remembering…"

Lindir threw Penny a glance. Penny's head had bowed a little. Lindir was still looking at her, as if waiting to see if she would respond to what he had just said or if he should carrying on talking.

"Loss is never easy, Pen-ii, especially when it is those you love, those closest to you. You will find your way, I know. Take all the time you need. We worry that you are hurting, that is all. If you need to talk, you only have to find us."

"Is that what you did?" Penny looked at him, her cheeks wet. "Talk?"

Lindir turned away, looking out at the sky. The silence stretched between them before Lindir replied at last.

"Eventually. It took… time. When I was ready, then, yes, I talked about him."

In the darkness, Halladan nodded to himself and stared out into the valley in his turn.

"I just cannot find the words, Lindir." There was a catch in her voice as she spoke. "I just…" She made a helpless, loose shrugging gesture with her hands. "It is so… and the more I think about it, the more I remember, then it just seems to get bigger and bigger until I…"

Lindir took her hand, wrapping his other arm round her shoulder and pulling her into him. He said nothing and neither did Penny. If she was crying once more then she made no sound, just the occasional soft sigh.

After some time, Lindir let her go and she sat up again. He asked her if she was feeling better and she nodded and thanked him. Then he smiled and kissed her brow, saying he had best get back.

When he left, Penny felt very conscious of the fact that it was Halladan, so burdened with his own problems, who had been left with her. Not only that but he had hardly said a word. They sat in silence for several minutes till Penny felt she really ought to say something.

"I am sorry I did not say anything to you before now."

Halladan seemed surprised.

"To me? Do not apologise."

"Well, the other night when you and Arvain were asking…"

"No, no, Pen-ii. I realised then it was best to leave you to tell us in your own time if you saw fit." He glanced at her. "That it was best not to press you."

She looked back at him.

"Is that what you think I did with you?"

"Well… yes. But you had your reasons. You were well intentioned…"

"And right."

"Well, yes, if you insist, but…"

"Even King Elessar agreed."

"It is not easy, Pen-ii. That is the point I am trying to make. It is not easy and I understand that all too well."

Penny felt a wave of guilt flow over her and she looked away.

"Pen-ii?"

"It is not the same, Halladan." Her voice was quiet. "I cannot begin to compare what I have been through to you or any like you who have seen battle."

"Perhaps not, but that does not make your loss any less, your grief any less painful."

She was still looking away from him, so he took her arm, trying to persuade her to turn back to him a little.

"Pen-ii?"

He paused, something slowly dawning on him.

"Tell me," he said slowly, "would you have come to me or Arvain about this if Lindir and I had not approached you this evening?"

No answer, though since she had already turned to him a little he could see she was trying to form a response but seemed unsure of how to put it, as if she felt awkward admitting what he now suspected her answer would surely be.

"Tell me honestly, Pen-ii."

"I would have avoided it if I possibly could, Halladan."

She glanced up at him, could see the flash of something like anger cross his face. She turned to him fully then.

"Halladan, please! You and Arvain have been through so much, have lost a brother and a father. And you in particular have suffered, still suffer because of it. I would not dream of burdening you further by discussing such things as grief and loss when I know it is the last thing you would wish to talk about. You avoid such things whenever you can, and I do not blame you for that in the least, indeed I can understand it completely. How could I speak to you of this?"

"I am your guardian, Pen-ii."

She had no response to that. It was clear that he meant that, in such a position, he had a right to know, however hard it might have been for him to hear it let alone discuss it.

There was a pause.

"I would have spared you such a conversation."

"I understand, Pen-ii, and I thank you for it, for myself and for my brother's sake, but as I said, I am your guardian as well as your friend, Pen-ii. Besides, your loss is that much different from mine so it would not be… You have said so little of your family. I would gladly hear you talk of them."

He tried a gentle smile and got one in return.

There was another brief silence. Penny dropped her gaze.

"I miss them so much, Halladan," she whispered at last.

"I do not doubt it."

"And I will never see them again. My mother, my brother, my grandfather, my friends, my uncles, aunts, cousins…"

He took her hand, held it tight.

"I am sorry," he murmured.

"I came here just to think about them. Only since the funeral, have I finally allowed myself to think like this. I had been so occupied with other matters before and also… also a little scared, scared of how enormous, how awful this is…"

She fell into silence. After a while Halladan spoke.

"If it would help you, I can keep you company at such times. Even if you do not wish to talk, simply to sit in silence with your own thoughts…"

She looked up at him, her eyes wet with tears but full of gratitude and something close to relief.

"Thank you," she said quietly but Halladan shook his head.

"No need to thank me. I shall be happy to do it. I will admit it was a pleasant comfort to have you sitting next to me those nights in Minas Tirith when I was similarly burdened, and you distracted me also. It is a small thing indeed if I can repay you in some fashion for all the kind concern you have shown me these last few weeks. What are friends for, after all?"

So it was that they stayed there a while, hardly talking at all, simply sitting side by side in silence much as they had for so many nights back in Gondor. At last Penny admitted she was tired, so Halladan walked her to her tent, bade her goodnight and meandered back to the Dunedain fire to drink a tankard of ale, have his first (and only) pipe of the day and stay up for a few more hours yet.

Arvain and Faelon were not the only ones to wonder at how long he had been gone.

The next day Halladan made a point of riding with Penny for the entire day; a simple act, perhaps, but one which she found surprisingly comforting. It was not too dissimilar a sensation to that which she had known when in Halbarad's company except that, unlike Halbarad, Halladan was her equal in many respects. However, it was certainly that same sense of having a support and a protector beside her if she ever needed it and it was not an unpleasant feeling.

That he expected nothing from her, demanded no conversation, did not cajole or bully her into lessons, singing or joining in chatter also helped. He was happy simply to keep her company, knowing that it was in itself enough for her, and she was happy that by being in someone's company others no longer felt like they needed to keep her entertained: they left her be and that suited her fine. Thus, Halladan's company gave her the space she needed in a strange kind of way.

All that morning they had been slowly coming down out of a large group of foothills onto the open, wide space of the Westfold Vale. By the time they stopped for their lunchtime meal, several of the elves said that, from on top of a horse, they could make out the silver line of the Entwash in the far distance and even the valley of Orthanc beyond it, even though it was near twenty leagues distant at that point.

They could also make out the scars left on the land by Saruman's troops as they had made their way from Orthanc via the Fords of Isen to Helm's Deep; and soon after they set off once more, Penny could see them for herself also, since they were riding past and through them at many points from then on.

They still took the well-beaten path, though the horses spread out a little now with grass on either side, heading west, but soon they would turn south towards the great valley (which Penny knew of as 'Deeping Coomb') that yawned open in the mountain range to their left.

Even to Penny it was clear there were few trees left standing either nearby or at any point as far as she could tell from the direction of the Fords of Isen all the way to the Coomb and beyond into it. Just as on the Pelennor, though in far greater numbers here, they had been cut down or (mostly) burnt, standing black and twisted as stark reminders of the slaughter in the Vale that fateful day. Great swathes of the ground had also been scorched as crops and grassland had been put to the torch. In many such areas only now were plants and grasses slowly regaining a foothold, giving the entire expanse of the Westfold a darkened patchwork feel instead of the sea of rolling grass and wheat it once had been.

However, the worst were the cottages and farmsteads.

Or what was left of them.

It was like that first horrible ride to Minas Tirith all over again in many ways, only there not every house had been destroyed and many that had been were by then already in the process of being rebuilt. In contrast, here there had been nothing but total destruction. The Uruk-hai and Dunlendings had known they could take their time as they had hounded and harried their quarry to its hiding-hole and so had deliberately gone out of their way to burn and destroy as they went. Eru help any they had caught – put to the sword, or speared on a pike, overwhelmed by sheer numbers… and that was if they had been lucky. If they had not, if they were the few women who had not had time to escape or had somehow missed the message to flee, then most had known a far more terrible end than the men or children who had died around them.

Silence fell on the party every time they travelled past burnt shells of buildings. Many were moved, not least because of the stories they had heard from the Rohirrim themselves of what had happened here. Aragorn's face was grim indeed. It had been hard for him to have had to flee in the face of the enemy, for all he had known it was the only thing that could have been done at that point.

Several times elves stopped, getting down off their horses if they were riding, and walking amongst the burnt remnants of copses, some touching the burnt stones of farmhouse walls, or even bending to touch the blackened earth. Many that did so were Galadhrim, both Galadriel and Celeborn amongst them, though not all, and more than once Penny spotted several gently uprooting a grass or a flower and replanting it in a bare patch of earth, murmuring quietly as they did so.

Elvish 'magic' in progress, apparently.

Penny found it really rather peculiar to see them about their business, having realised what they were up to. Halladan could see her watching them and smiled.

"They know what they are about."

"I do not doubt it."

"They have ancient wisdom, much of it older even than they, passed on through the generations. They can do much to heal such places."

Penny nodded and fell silent. It was all deeply weird. Not least of which because it was only after the elves stopped at a place and a bird would perhaps come and alight on the burnt branch of a tree near them and start to sing that Penny realised how quiet some of those places had been. The places with destroyed dwellings in particular, as if the animals had known even by instinct what horrors had been committed on such soil. Yet after the elves passed by, the wild animals felt no fear of such places and returned, if perhaps a little hesitantly, to live their animally lives once more, to reclaim those areas of scorched earth and 'cleanse' them of their past, just as the plants were beginning to do.

Deeping Coomb itself was easily as broad as it was deep, a great steep-sided bowl opening in the side of the White Mountains, with the peak of Thrihyrne rising tall and proud on its western edge. As they rode towards the southern mountains' foothills that spilled over into the Coomb, Penny tried to imagine the landscape around her filled with orcs, albeit ones probably a good deal larger than the dead ones she had seen in the Misty Mountains. Her brain just refused to manage it, though.

There were fewer destroyed buildings within the Coomb, but only because most Rohirrim had lived out on the Westfold Vale rather than within the Coomb itself. The few buildings that had been in the Coomb were burnt-out shells just the same as those out on the Vale that had lain in the path of the advancing hordes. It said something for the extent of the damage felt in this half of Rohan that they had not yet managed to consider rebuilding these small-holdings, unlike those on the Pelennor.

If there were any left alive who wished to return to them, that was.

As they began to climb higher and higher, up hill after hill, slowly leaving the floor of the Coomb behind them, Penny's pulse began to quicken ever so slightly. Every now and then she could catch glimpses far ahead of them of the great gash in the southern mountain wall that formed the massive ravine of Helm's Deep. Occasionally, as they edged ever nearer, she could see the tip of the Hornburg on top of its cliff spur, as well as the roof of a smaller tower somewhere to the left that sat on top of the Deeping Wall. However the view, when it was clear, was for the most part obscured by a massive rampart that cut right across the entrance to Helm's Deep: Helm's Dike.

It was not too dissimilar to the first time Penny had seen Lothlorien, or Edoras, or Minas Tirith: something in her brain was saying 'You're here, you are really here; you are actually seeing Helm's Deep, THE Helm's Deep.' Moments from the battle – so well known to her before, but all the more vivid now having heard so many speak of it to her directly, not least Legolas in their long talks back in Minas Tirith – ran through her head.

At last they were in the small valley directly below the dike and its massive rampart, and it was a straight, clear road up towards it. It was then that Penny caught sight of a huge pile of stones away to their left, situated about a mile below the dike.

No grass, flower or plant grew on it, though dirt and earth had already collected in the cracks. It was several feet high and quite some size – easily a small hill. Halladan caught her staring at it and opened his mouth to explain, but she answered before he could speak.

"The Death Down they call it, do they not?"

He nodded. She grimaced at the thought of what lay underneath it. It seemed so very strange to see it, to know it was not the work of men but of the Huorns and that under it lay the crushed remains of every Uruk that had fallen that day, so many they had filled the dike with bodies even before the battle proper had begun.

Penny shuddered, and very deliberately looked away, up towards Helm's Dike. This consisted of a deep, broad trench a mile long that curved along the path leading to Helm's Deep, cutting it off entirely – there was no way round it. On the other side of the trench was a massive wall of earth with a wooden palisade on top of it. In the middle was a breach, both in the rampart and in the ditch, allowing a means of entrance as well as an exit for the Deeping Stream that ran down from Helm's Deep itself.

The nearer they got to it, the faster Penny's heart was thumping. She had not really thought about where they would stop, but had assumed they might camp in the valley below Helm's Deep. However, as the train climbed ever upward it seemed clear that they were intending to stay within the Hornburg itself, or at least camp in front of it.

She was not sure which would be worse: to have camped this side of the Dike in sight of the burial mound of the orcs, or else the prospect of camping on the battlefield itself where so many had fallen and she knew she would find the Rohirric burial mounds in front of the Wall.

Through the gap in the Dike she could now clearly see the massive Wall at the top of the long, low slope of grass behind the rampart, and it made her stomach tie into knots. She was not aware her breathing had quickened.

Several yards short of the Dike, Halladan pulled his horse slightly closer to hers and leaned towards her.

"Are you feeling unwell, Pen-ii?"

He barely spoke above a murmur, not wanting to be overheard and draw attention to her.

"No, I am quite well, I assure you," Penny replied, almost distractedly.

It was hardly the most convincing performance, though, given she was unable to tear her eyes away from the rampart at first where the front of the train was already passing through the gap.

She threw Halladan a thin, weak smile.

"I shall be glad to get out of the saddle at last."

Halladan nodded, smiled and gave a soft half-chuckle in agreement.

As they finally rode up to the Dike in their turn and passed through the rampart, Penny did find herself wondering why Halladan did not himself seem more out of sorts, given the last time he was here he had been in the company of both Hirvell and Halbarad.

'Perhaps he is just covering it well,' she thought.

Or perhaps having to occupy himself with Penny served Halladan nearly as well as it served her, for the time being at least at any rate, though Penny little realised it.

In spite of her reassurances to Halladan, Penny could not help but stare, open-mouthed as she caught sight of the entirety of the Deeping Wall at last. There were two things that struck her immediately: that it was an astonishingly impressive piece of architecture and that it had also clearly taken a hell of a beating during the battle.

The Deeping Wall was very high and actually leaned over slightly at the top, making it look as if it was looming towards you which was really quite unnerving. It ran the entire length of the opening of Helm's Deep, from the western cliff of the ravine to the massive spit of rock on which stood the Hornburg on the other side. The stonework was such that it seemed entirely smooth, like glass, with only a line of arrow slits visible at the very top.

However, there were several sections that were missing where Saruman's 'blasting fire' had done its worst. Work had been done to patch them up but even Penny could see both the stone used and the workmanship were clearly inferior to that which had built the wall originally. Penny could see Gimli a little way ahead of her tutting and shaking his head as he caught sight of it. The repair work was still ongoing too – men were up ladders or else on top of the Wall hauling up great chunks of stone on ropes to be mortared into place.

As for the Hornburg, it was just visible towering above a wall that had been built on top of the rocky spur that stuck out from the right-hand cliff of the ravine. It was impossible to say where the spit of rock ended and the wall began, so finely crafted was it. Both it and the Deeping Wall immediately reminded Penny very much of the outer wall of Minas Tirith. Now it seemed she could recognise Numenorean work when she saw it.

As impressive as the Wall and the Hornburg were, however, they were not what immediately caught the eye. Rather, the first things that struck you as you came through the gap in the Dike were the two massive burial mounds in front of the wall, like small, grassy hills. The one on the left was for the dead of the Eastfold, the one on the right for the fallen from the Westfold and then, on its own, was a much smaller mound below the Hornburg. That, as Penny knew full well, was where Háma, Captain of the King's Guard, lay with his sword and shield on his breast, buried in full honour.

As she slowly took all this in, Penny was little aware that Halladan kept throwing increasingly anxious glances at her. She had gone rather pale and seemed oblivious to much that was going on around her instead staring at the burial mounds, glancing up at the Wall and the Hornburg or else looking fixedly at the back of her horse's neck while she simply followed everyone else as if on automatic pilot.

Nor was Halladan the only one to be concerned.

Arvain had been trying to make his way towards them the moment they had come in sight of the palisade, but given he had been some way behind them and with the slight bottleneck going through the Dike had only just now managed to catch them up. Not only that, but Erestor had detached himself away from the company of Elrond, Aragorn, Gandalf and Celeborn, murmuring something to them all as he set off back down the line. All four immediately seemed to agree with him, nodding and glancing behind them to where Penny was.

"How are you faring, Pen-ii?"

Erestor's face spoke of his kind concern. Penny looked up at him, took a deep breath and tried to show a brave face, giving him a slightly wobbly smile. Erestor smiled his understanding, falling in beside her even as Arvain came alongside his brother. Arvain leaned forward slightly in his saddle to look across Halladan at Penny then glanced at Halladan. Halladan's expression said everything and Arvain sighed heavily, raising his eyebrows slightly as if to say 'well, it was to be expected, perhaps.'

Penny's mind was racing as they came to the paved causeway that crossed over the Deeping Stream as it wound round the Hornrock. Immediately on the other side of the stream the causeway sloped up, becoming the broad, paved ramp that led to rock's summit and the gates into the Hornburg. All the while she was riding up it, Penny was trying not to think about all the things she knew had occurred on those very stones, nor the fact that, when they got to the top, there was the smell of new wood as they passed through the gate and a man armed with a filthy smelling bucket was daubing the wood with something thick and black.

When they finally stopped in the courtyard, Penny was still pale and glancing about her, trying to take everything in. In some ways this was worse than coming to Minas Tirith. If they had camped that night on the Pelennor, or down in the First Circle then it might have been equivalent, but here…

Men had died here. Men had spilt their blood here, right _here_, right where she had ridden through. Yes, it had been a glorious victory, an utter rout when almost all hope had been lost, but dreadful things had also happened in this place that she could not even begin to imagine, even though her mind's eye was trying hard to do exactly that. They were lying just outside, piled together in those pits… And Háma! She had known he would… He was one of the few she knew of by name and where he would…

Penny was trying to tell her brain to shut the hell up, but it was not listening.

Everyone was milling around, some following Rohirrim as they led the horses off, many still fully laden, down to the Deep and the caves where they could be stabled, watered and fed. Others were shouldering their packs (or found others shouldering them for them) as Rohirrim then showed them to their quarters. Several Rohirric lords were warmly welcoming Aragorn and Gandalf, being introduced to Elrond and Celeborn, or else greeting Legolas and Gimli heartily as old friends.

It was Halladan quietly asking if Penny did not want to dismount that roused her at last, and even as she nodded vaguely to him and started to move she was dimly aware that her breathing was a little erratic and shallow. When she finally slid out of the saddle and her feet hit the floor, she crumpled slightly, her knees feeling not quite strong enough to hold her. Halladan caught her, Arvain quickly beside him with a noise of concern.

"Really," she murmured, "I am…"

"If you say you are quite well once more, Pen-ii, I shall get annoyed," Halladan interrupted, not entirely in jest though his tone was gentle. He glanced up. "Where is Mireth? Arvain, could you find…?"

"Pen-ii?"

It was Elrond. Erestor had brought him over and he was now looking somewhat alarmed to see Penny in such a state.

Penny, aware she was under scrutiny and worrying them, struggled to stand upright away from Halladan's support. Halladan let go of her, but still held both arms hovering protectively only inches away from her, just in case.

"Please, I am just a little…"

"I quite understand, Pen-ii," Elrond replied quietly. "Let us get you housed and away from the bustle, shall we?"

So saying he immediately dispatched Arvain to fetch Mireth while asking Halladan to deal with Penny's horse and have her things brought to her chambers. He and Erestor would try to find someone who could show them where Penny was to be billeted. Erestor shepherded Penny behind Elrond, one hand on her back both as friendly reassurance, and also in case she needed sudden support.

Arvain left even before Elrond had finished speaking, but for several moments Halladan did not move, watching in clear concern as Elrond and Erestor disappeared with Penny into the throng.

The room Penny, Elrond and Erestor were shown to was up several floors. It was long, with a low ceiling and a few small windows down one wall which looked out over the ravine of Helm's Deep. That there were thirty bare wooden cots in it made it clear it was normally a barracks for soldiers. Elrond dismissed the young man who had shown them the way with his thanks the moment they got there.

"I thank you both," Penny said gratefully as they sat her down on a nearby cot, "but I am quite well now. It was a brief moment as I got out of the saddle, that was all."

Elrond gave her a hard look: serious, not to be argued with, but kindly and with some sympathy all the same.

"Do you think I have forgotten how much you told me of what happened here? Estel was astonished when I first told him of it, how I could recount it blow by blow near enough. I know full well why you are overcome. You are tired from travelling, carrying pain and grief which is in itself exhausting and now… now you are here in a place so full of meaning for you. Did you not struggle at first in Gondor? Why should here be any different?"

At that moment Mireth arrived with blankets. Erestor took that as his cue to leave, saying he would check Elrond's things were being taken to his room. As Penny thanked him once again and he made his way out of the door, he stepped aside to make way for Halladan who had appeared in the doorway carrying Penny's saddlebag and the pack she shared with Mireth.

Elrond glanced up and half-chuckled.

"I did not intend for you to carry them yourself, Halladan."

Halladan shrugged noncommittally.

"It seemed easier than trying to find someone else to do it. I have had the mare sent on to the caves. Arvain's taking my things to our chambers."

Mireth fussed a little over Penny, saying she needed to lie down and rest, but Penny was equally insistent that there was nothing the matter with her, that it was a momentary thing that had now passed.

Mireth seemed anxious that Penny had perhaps not recuperated enough in Minas Tirith, that to be travelling again so soon had taken its toll given she had not been up to full strength after her serious illness. Elrond and Halladan shared the smallest of glances, an unspoken agreement passing between them, at which point Elrond explained gently to Mireth that Penny had had some foresight about the battle that had taken place here.

There was a momentary pause before Mireth said anything.

"Oh."

The look she then gave Penny was so filled with sympathy and understanding that it nearly brought Penny to tears.

"I understand," she said quietly. "Ai, Pen-ii."

So saying she immediately sat down next to her and wrapped her arms about her in an almost maternal gesture.

Other ellith were arriving so Elrond and Halladan made to leave, but not before they had sought reassurance that Penny was feeling better. She thanked them, insisting once more that it had been a brief moment, nothing more, and that she was sure she would be fine.

"After all, we will only be here a short while," she added, trying to sound light-hearted.

But the looks both Elrond and Halladan gave her were more knowing than she felt comfortable with, and she was rather relieved when they had left.

For a little while Mireth tried to cheer her and distract her, chattering about this and that or attempting to pull her in to the other conversations the newly arrived ellith had broken into. That their conversations seemed to turn mainly on how dark and severe the place seemed did not help Penny particularly and, when she saw an opportunity, she left the room, hoping Mireth would understand and not come running after her. She just needed some time alone to get a grip on her whirling thoughts.

She found her way out into the main courtyard. There were still quite a lot of people around, some busy with sorting their baggage or being shown to rooms, but most simply chatting or being introduced to the few Rohirrim around. Penny followed those who seemed to be making their way down to the Deep itself, trailing along behind a number of elvish horses down a series of wide corridors.

The horses were making their way down to a lower exit, but they passed by a large, heavy door that was opened, leading to a flight of steps down to the Deep. Penny went through it, aware (with her heart thumping a little as she stood at the top of the steps and got her bearings) that it had to be the same staircase Legolas and Aragorn had defended as everyone near them had beaten a retreat into the Burg once the orcs had finally breached the Wall.

Helm's Deep was filled with people coming and going, mostly Rohirrim with elves accompanying them, leading the horses to be stabled or returning from the caves. Penny could see several others she recognised from their travelling party – both Gondorian and elf - who had already made it outside, perhaps some being told of the battle that took place here given they were having things pointed out to them from what she could see.

She slowly walked down the staircase, looking round her all the while, taking in the sheer, towering cliffs on either side, the deep, wide ravine narrowing away to her right. It was not quite as gloomy and dark as she had always had it in her mind's eye. Admittedly the battle had taken place at night and in a storm, let alone under the shadow of the cloud from Mordor, so that had no doubt coloured her perception of it. Still, she was surprised to see so much coarse grass in amongst the stones, and even the odd flower here and there. There was a rough track up the middle of the Deep itself, leading, no doubt, to the caves; and all along its length ran the Deeping Stream, trickling and murmuring as it made its way down to the Wall itself.

The thing that most took her breath away was the size of the place. It really was huge. The sky was open above her, the massive cliffs leading straight up to clear blue, and though it was late afternoon there was still quite a bit of sun in a strip to the far left of the Deep, though it was fading fast, the line of shadow from the northern cliff slowly creeping forward till at last it would hit its opposite wall of rock and sweep up it.

No one was paying Penny much attention, and she was glad of it. She was able to gawp and stare, to take in her fill of this place as much as she wanted, and in that she was no different from the few others from her party who were in the Deep already so she did not stand out in the least. It was better like this, so she felt: to be unaccompanied as she got it out of her system this first time of seeing it all.

The Deeping Wall stood tall and dark, casting a long, cold shadow behind it into the Deep. She immediately spotted the small culvert where the Deeping Stream still ran out on its way down to the Dike and into the coomb beyond. She could also make out the new stonework around it spreading out in a huge V-shape upwards to within several yards of the top of the Wall.

The Wall itself was complete (either undamaged or repaired) for quite some way along its length from the Burg end all the way to the tower that stood at about two thirds along. The remaining repair work was being done on the far side of the tower. Penny thus felt safe enough from the enquiring glances of workmen and Rohirrim to climb up the Wall, indeed she could already make out at least two ellyn up there with a couple of Dunedain, no doubt admiring the view.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs that led up the outside of the Wall. Yup, three flights, just as she had known even before she had counted them. She tried hard to fight back the momentary vision of standing in that same spot with a foot or more of water round her legs, perhaps even with bodies or body parts floating past her.

She climbed up slowly, not savouring the moment exactly, but certainly barely able to take in what she was doing and where she actually was. Her vertiginous brain tried hard not to think about the fact that there was no railing. Instead she concentrated on counting the steps, admiring the stonework, making note of the fact that the stairs were definitely wide enough for two men to pass each other by at a run if need be, but she still kept herself as close to the Wall edge as possible.

She was so focused on what she was doing that she was entirely oblivious to the fact that various others had had the same idea as she and were coming out into the Deep at least before the last of the afternoon sun was lost. As she climbed, therefore, she little realised that Legolas had spotted her almost the moment he had come out of the Hornburg and had made his way down to where Aragorn and Gandalf stood on the stairs leading up from the Deep to the Burg, pointing her out to them.

Once she was on top of the Wall, Penny could fully appreciate just how massive it was. Four men could indeed walk abreast on top of it as she had already known, but now it was clear they could do so easily as in 'four men carrying shields and spears, and with swords on their hips.' The battlements were as tall as Penny if perhaps a little taller. She could see the ellyn were having no difficulty in looking over the top of them but the Dunedain with them had to lift their heads and crane their necks a little to do so. She settled for making for the nearest arrow slit instead, gazing out onto the scenery that would have met any man of Rohan that fateful night, let alone Legolas who was up on the Wall for quite a time or even Aragorn on several occasions.

By pressing her face up fairly close to the slit she could get a very good view on all sides, not merely straight ahead. She tried not to look down too near to the base of the Wall itself since the fact that the top of the Wall was shaped to lean over slightly from the outside gave you a real sense of vertigo if you did. She contented herself (though that was hardly the word to use) with taking in the span of the greensward.

It was something less than a mile long and there was nearly a third of a mile between the Wall and the Dike's rampart. From this side she could see the network of ladders and staircases leading up to the platform that ran the entire length of the rampart so soldiers stationed at the Dike could look out onto the valley below. It seemed strange to see Rohirric soldiers stationed at regular intervals along the rampart's length, though of course, for all the War was over, this was still a fortress. There was always the possibility of the odd band of orcs still ranging in the mountains beside them, though they would have been foolish indeed to have made their presence known. In some ways it only added to Penny's sense of bitter sadness to be reminded of this place's function so clearly.

It was perhaps nearly as impossible for Penny to imagine the view in front of her crawling with orcs as it had been to imagine the coomb filled with them earlier, but she knew for a fact that that was exactly what had happened. Even if she did not know the story so well herself, she had heard it told on several occasions in the last few weeks: how every time the lightning had flashed it had looked like a boiling black sea between the Wall and the Dike's rampart.

Down below her, Gandalf, Legolas and Aragorn had been joined by Erestor and Lindir (among others). They in their turn had Penny discreetly pointed out to them and both Lindir and Legolas had made to go up to join her, but both had been stayed by Gandalf.

"Give her a little time alone. Let her take this in on her own," he had murmured.

Had she known, Penny would have been grateful to him.

How long she stood peering out through the arrow slit, her imagination running overtime, she was not entirely sure. Slowly, even as her brain was turning over the specific events of that night, she turned at last, taking in the Wall itself, her mind's eye managing easily now to fill it with several rows of men along its entire length armed with bows, Eomer or Aragorn marching amongst them, bellowing instructions.

A brief glance down towards the Deep was a mistake as she immediately took in the fact that, with there being only a barrier a couple of feet high on the Deep side of the Wall's top, any forceful arrow blow would very likely carry you over the edge if you were near enough to it. That and, of course, with ladders and grappling hooks, Uruk had been trying to scale the walls and no doubt succeeded at points, so hand to hand combat would have made sure of some falls, both Uruk and Rohirrim, as well.

Blood had been spilt on these stones, even if the rain had washed them clean.

Okay, that had been the wrong thing to allow to slip into her brain.

She looked towards the Burg, noted the staircase leading from the end of the Wall up to it, only too aware that Aragorn himself had leapt up it when he had realised the danger the gate was in from the orcish battering ram.

She looked straight ahead towards where the ravine began to narrow into obscurity and darkness, where she knew the caves were situated, and in the gathering shadow of the cliff it was all too easy to be able to imagine a great horde of Uruk rushing up to them, only to be held back by sword and shield, Eomer and Gimli fighting fiercely amongst the defenders.

The great horn of Helm echoed against these cliffs when blown, but then so did any sound, she was sure of it. The occasional guffaw of laughter, shout or the simple rumble of conversation from the many people standing about in the Deep, for all it was a huge space, seemed far louder to her than she felt sure it might have been if the Wall were not situated between these two massive walls of rock. She did not doubt for an instant, therefore, that those women and children hiding in the caves had not only heard the noise of battle but had had it magnified: the clang of steel, the roaring booms every time Saruman's explosive had blasted apart chunks of the Wall, sending pieces of rock (and men, no doubt) flying, the screeches of the Uruk, the screams of the dying… Everything must have been amplified in this ravine, siphoned up towards those terrified people, not knowing if their menfolk would beat back this horror or not. And when the caves themselves had then had to be defended… Ai, it must have felt like their last few moments on this earth.

'But it wasn't,' she told herself. 'It _wasn't_ because they _won_. Yes, men died, but they _won_. It was a rout: a tremendous, historical, fantastic victory.'

Her brain knew it, but her heart was having difficult remembering it right now.

She turned back to the arrow slit, still focused on her own thoughts, little caring in that moment what others might think of her, up there alone on the Wall; she, a complete stranger to Rohan who had no one to mourn who fell here, who could feel no significance, no weight of grief for what happened here, or so any of the Rohirrim might assume.

She could not remember the last time she had felt quite so lost and overwhelmed, given this seemed so much heavier than whatever she had felt even in Minas Tirith. Was it back in Imladris perhaps? Or… No. No, she could remember when. This was much like the ride to Imladris, that same overwhelming depression as when she had felt herself sinking deep into despair while she struggled to retain her sanity.

However, this time she felt all too horribly sane.

This time it was driven by her personal loss, let alone the weight of responsibility she still felt herself burdened by, the grief she knew others carried and what she knew would come to pass in the north.

And as that thought occurred to her, she remembered that at that time she had had the quiet strength and comfort of Halbarad to lean on, quite literally as she had sat behind him in the saddle for mile after mile. Halbarad, who perhaps had stood on this very same Wall, perhaps even looked out from this very same spot for all she knew.

She sank sideways, her head leaning against the cold, dark stone, hardly looking out of the arrow slit anymore, her gaze unfocused, blinded with silent tears.

It was still light, though Helm's Deep was now dark in shadow, and dusk was beginning to draw in far in the east when she heard someone quietly say her name beside her.

She looked up to see it was Legolas, a sad smile on his face.

"Evening meal is being had in the hall," Legolas said quietly. "Are you up to eating?"

She shivered, only now aware that clear cloudless skies had brought a chill with them with the evening breeze. She nodded, thinking it would be pleasant to get inside into the warm, though she had little appetite.

"We thought it best to leave you to have some time alone," another voice murmured nearby. Only then did Penny realise Lindir was standing on the other side of Legolas. "You seemed… lost in your thoughts."

"I was. It is… very strange to be here. This place… it is the battle we know the most about in our story. I… I have known what happened here in so much detail for so many years."

Legolas was nodding.

"I remember you telling me as much. Tomorrow, if you wish it, I can talk to you about what happened here if you think it might help you come to terms with being here at last."

"Thank you, Legolas, that would be most kind of you." She paused. "But will you not be busy tomorrow?"

Legolas looked at her curiously.

"Does Gimli not wish to show you the caves? You have a bargain with him, no?"

Legolas laughed.

"Did I mention that to you? I do not remember doing so. But, no matter, I should know better with you. Yes, he has insisted I remember my promise to him, but I shall have some time to spare tomorrow for you, Pen-ii. I would be glad to do it if it might help bring you some comfort."

Penny said nothing for a moment and the two ellyn showed no sign of moving just yet, both waiting patiently for her to show she was ready to head into the Burg herself.

"I feel too much," she said quietly at last. "That probably makes no sense, but there are so many things inside me, so many weighty things that cause me pain and I am trying to deal with them one at a time, but being here… it is as if I can feel them all at once."

She looked up at them both, hoping she had expressed herself clearly but suspecting she had possibly not: she was not sure she even knew herself what it was she was trying to describe. However, she was relieved to see them both nodding.

"We might be elves, Pen-ii," said Lindir, "but we have known grief in our own fashion, both personal and in a more general sense. Each loss, small or great, adds to the ones before it. And any warrior who has seen what death can be, what horror battle is… Those are images that never leave you. You will always carry them with you."

"Grief can be a heavy burden," Legolas agreed. "It eases with time."

"Yes, indeed, and you have had such a short time to deal with all your grief and burden among us all, Pen-ii," Lindir continued. "You have shown fortitude and patience so far, but I fear you must show more for some while yet. In years to come, perhaps, you will look back on these times and find that the pain, if not wholly disappeared, has lessened considerably. That is the only comfort I can give you, and it might seem little comfort indeed, but I know it to be true, and that certain knowledge will help to give you the patience you need to bear this while it is still so raw within you."

"Such places," Legolas looked round him, "always hold a resonance, even if one has not seen battle there. Any soldier, anyone who has known death, could tell you that. Do you not think Elladan, Elrohir or I did not think of those of our people who had fallen in Mordor when we ourselves stood before the Black Gate? My grandfather died there and a great many of my kin were lost; you know that. Do you not think I felt the weight of their memory, their loss even as I faced Sauron's forces in my turn?"

He was not accusing her of having forgotten these things, but rather trying to provide some comfort, to show her he understood her current mood completely.

"It is true I saw terrible things in this place, Pen-ii, things that, while normal for battle, are things I would never wish you to have to see, but remember I also saw a great victory here, and wonders I never hoped to witness. That, above all, is something to celebrate, for all that men died here."

Lindir nodded, agreeing absolutely.

"I know," Penny replied, her voice quiet, "I know and do not think I have not told myself exactly that, Legolas, it is simply…"

"The first shock of being here?" Lindir finished for her. "It was to be expected. As you said you knew this battle perhaps better than any other." He smiled sympathetically. "Come. A warm hall, some good food and a little gentle distraction in tale and song will cheer you a little, perhaps. Shall we go?"

Penny thanked them and nodded, letting them lead her off to the staircase that ran from the end of the Wall up to the Burg.

At the top of the steps, before she stepped through the door, she glanced back, taking one last look at the great Wall and Helm's Deep behind it. Dusk was coming quickly now and the whole place had sunk into a deep gloom, far more reminiscent of how she had always thought of this place in her mind's eye. Then she turned and headed off after Legolas and Lindir, following them to the hall deep within the Hornburg's walls.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

Re. the elves being able to see the valley of Orthanc from the moment they reach the flat of the Westfold, before turning south to Helm's Deep: at much the same point as they are riding to Helm's Deep with Theoden, Legolas is asked what he can see by Gandalf, and he can make out the hosts of Saruman on the other side of the river, and behind them a "veiling shadow." Thus it's not unreasonable that keen elvish sight on a clear day with no such 'shadow' of Saruman's making could see all the way to the valley, if not perhaps see Orthanc itself.

For those unfamiliar with the books and who are confused by Hama being buried at Helm's Deep: that whole bit with the warg attack in the films was pure invention on PJ's part. Hama fought at Helm's Deep and died there, not on the way there. It is also worth mentioning here that Eomer was given Erkenbrand's role in the films. In the books Eomer fought at Helm's Deep and it was Erkenbrand who arrived with the dawn alongside Gandalf.

As ever, my sincere thanks to all those who read this, let alone take time out to review with their comments, thoughts and responses. It is much appreciated.


	46. Those Who Wait

My sincere apologies for the length of time it has taken to get this chapter out. Rest assured that, no matter how long it might take, this fic is still being written. If ever something happened which meant I had to take a break from it, then I would let you know by leaving a message to that effect on my profile. Otherwise, even if it's a slow process, I am determined to get this fic finished. I'm just sorry RL is such that writing time (or effective writing time) has been so very limited of late.

* * *

**Chapter 46** – _"Those Who Wait"  
_

The hall, whilst magnificently grand in its sheer size, had clearly seen better days. There was little or no ornamentation beyond that inherent within the original stonework itself and whilst a few standards and banners hung high on the walls, most looked faded and worn. The floor was tiled but several of the tiles had cracked and been mortared back in whilst others had been replaced with poor imitations or something entirely different that was almost but not quite the same colour.

Penny did not notice such details in particular, only the pervasive sense that it added to her already subdued mood. It did not seem run down so much as reminiscent of a faded glory. The place was functional, practical, and not used to such glorious company as currently sat at the long rows of tables.

By the time she, Legolas and Lindir had reached the hall, the evening meal was in full swing. The atmosphere was not jolly, perhaps, but certainly amiable enough. Penny slid into a space between Lindir and Celebdor and let the conversation wash over her. She ate little.

The meal merged into a sociable drinking session. People remained seated for the most part and chatted, sharing flagons of wine or ale, whilst one of the Rohirrim stood up near the top table and told The Tale of the Battle of the Hornburg in which Aragorn's name featured just as heavily as those of Eomer and Theoden. Mention too was made of the bravery of Gimli, the valour of Legolas, as well as the wondrous arrival with the dawn of Erkenbrand, Gandalf and the huorns.

It was in Westron, so chunks were unfathomable to Penny, but she caught the gist of much of it, and listened as best she could, hoping it would provide a distraction from the sense of deep melancholy somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

It was a better distraction to watch others in the hall, however. The hobbits were sitting next to Gimli on the opposite side of the hall to Penny and she could see Pippin digging Gimli in the ribs every time his name was mentioned which seemed to both embarrass him and make him swell with pride a little. She could also see Merry twisting in his seat to try and catch sight of Legolas when he was mentioned in a rather lengthy passage praising his skill with a bow. She knew when he had spotted him at last because a broad grin spread over his face. Legolas, seated on the other side of Lindir to her, chuckled quietly as he caught Merry's eye and shook his head.

One or two of the Dunedain seemed to be unable to keep in their seats and were walking slowly up and down the length of the hall, tankards in hand, occasionally stopping to chat with seated comrades. They seemed restless, and it struck Penny that it was unlikely to be the mood of the place or memories affecting them since, she reasoned, if that were the case they would have simply removed themselves from the proceedings entirely or else sat quietly in a corner drinking heavily, pulling on a pipe…

And then Penny realised.

Now she looked round she could not see one person smoking.

Well, that would explain the slight case of the fidgets Arvain and Halladan's cousin seemed to have at the far end of her table. He was tearing a piece of bread apart apparently without even being aware he was doing so.

The orator was now listing the heroes who had fallen, and Penny decided that was her cue to leave. It was not that she would find it too distressing to listen to, rather that she had already had her moment of grief out there on the Wall and would quite like to have a break, thanks ever so.

She murmured her apologies to those sitting near her and went to find Mireth, since there was no way she would find her way back to their room on her own. The inside of the Burg was like a rabbit warren.

She walked down the hall, nodding at friends in amongst those still seated as she did so. She caught Halladan's eye at one point, though he was seated on the other side of the hall from where she was. He smiled and nodded his head and she returned the gesture.

As she did so, however, Penny heard her name and noticed Erestor beckoning her over. Aragorn and Gandalf were seated with him.

"You are leaving, Pen-ii?"

"Yes, I am not much in the mood for company this evening. I shall retire to my room and a book."

"Ah." Erestor smiled approvingly at the idea of her finding solace in reading.

"We saw you on the Wall earlier, Pen-ii," Aragorn said. "It must be strange indeed to be here after all you have heard of this place."

"No more strange perhaps than for those who fought here or hold memories of those now fallen once walking within these walls."

It was sincerely meant, and they could see it. This was not 'Penny in turmoil trying to hold it together and say the right thing' but rather her speaking with complete understanding and sympathy. Aragorn inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of both the sentiment and the truth in her words.

"We shall not be here long, Pen-ii," Gandalf's voice was quiet and kindly. "And perhaps it shall be no bad thing for you to be here, to confront some of your burden. As you have sometimes said in the past, the guessed at is often darker than the known which, however bleak, once faced can be all the better accepted. Only then can one move forward."

Others round him were nodding and Penny knew he was right. She thanked him, not knowing what else to say, and hurried on to find Mireth.

Mireth offered to stay with her when they made it back to the room, but Penny assured her there was no need. It was, after all, still very early and she knew she would be poor company. Even so, Mireth sat on her cot next to Penny's as Penny washed and undressed, regaling her with some lengthy and convoluted tale involving a Lothlorien elleth and the two suitors who had vied for her hand only to be pipped at the post by a third they had not even known was in the running.

Penny smiled and nodded as she listened, grateful for what she knew Mireth was trying to do. She suspected that Mireth herself was probably still feeling quite low and out of sorts, and thus was all the more touched by her gesture. At last, however, Mireth said she would leave her be and headed back to the dining hall and the comfort of Celebdor's company. Meanwhile Penny got into bed with a lamp beside her and read some of her Tuor, allowing the story to transport her away from everything else trying to crowd in on her mind.

If she had stopped to think about it, she would have noted the irony of how she was actually trying to escape the reality of something that previously would have been the very fantasy she would have escaped into.

All very strange.

After some time she realised her eyes were aching too much for her to read any more, but though she was tired she was not sleepy. She turned out the lamp and lay in the dark, trying not to think about anything in particular, but very, very conscious of the silence. The room felt muggy – it was a warm summer night – and yet the oppressive nature of the cold, bare stone walls only made Penny snuggle herself down into her blanket.

Only when the ellith arrived at last, chattering and giggling in whispers, did she finally drift off to sleep. Perhaps it was to be expected given the warm night, let alone the sense of grief weighing down on her, but Penny's sleep was fitful and disturbed by strange dreams. Little did she know it, but Mireth stayed awake for much of the night, sitting on the floor beside Penny's cot while she stroked her forehead and hair, murmuring quietly to her each time she grew restless.

In one particularly vivid dream Penny had arrived at her mother's house for lunch only to find that Halbarad was already in the sitting room being fed tea and cakes. Her mother seemed entirely unfazed by the sight of an unkempt six-foot Dunadan in full 'costume' replete with bow on his back and sword on his hip sitting on her sofa, making polite comments about the wallpaper and asking her about the holiday snaps in frames on the mantelpiece.

"This is where I've been," Penny explained, indicating Halbarad, but her mother did not seem the least bit interested.

"Tell you what," she was saying to Halbarad, "I've got some lovely pics of Penny when she was little, I'll have to find them."

She stood up and started rummaging in a nearby bookcase.

"But, Mum, I've been gone! Haven't you noticed? I've been gone! He's been looking after me, him and friends of his, so I don't want you to worry about me…"

"Would your friend like another cup of tea, darling?"

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"

Halbarad seemed delighted to find that the plate in front of him was full of Jaffa Cakes since he was, so he declared, a huge fan of them.

"Have you tried the new lime flavour?" he asked Penny.

Penny could only feel the rising knot of frustration and bewilderment within her stomach. She blinked at him.

"Why are you here? You died. How are you…?"

Her mother was laughing.

"How can he be dead and eating my sponge cake?! He's a fictional character, love, not some real warrior."

That made Halbarad suddenly very angry. He started shouting, smashing the teapot against the wall in his fury, insisting he was every bit as real as anyone else, but when Penny tried to stop him her hand went straight through his arm as if he were a phantom. Halbarad stared at her in shock as he slowly faded from view while Penny screamed his name, shaking off her mother's hold only for her mother's house to then twist out of existence in its turn.

She had woken herself up in tears at that point to find Mireth shushing her back to sleep, her song lulling Penny into sweeter, if still equally vivid, dreams.

When Penny finally awoke with the dawn, she felt almost as tired as when she had gone to sleep, and she still felt a great weight somewhere deep within her that would not shift.

She did not want breakfast, but felt obliged to accompany Mireth and the others nonetheless. Once again she ate little and let the conversation pass her by while she counted the number of carved flowers she could find in the ceiling struts of the dining hall. She was distracted, however, by the arrival of Rhimlath and Lindir as they squeezed themselves onto their table, muttering something about escaping Gimli.

"He is determined to give anyone and everyone a tour of the caves," Lindir explained. "He has been giving chapter and verse on it all through breakfast and is now looking for willing volunteers to hold lamps and go exploring."

"Legolas has little choice," Rhimlath added, "but that does not mean the rest of us have to subject ourselves to it."

"But surely King Thranduil's Halls are caves, Rhimlath?" Penny replied. "I doubt Legolas will feel too uncomfortable."

Lindir started to mutter something about 'far be it for him to comment on the foibles of Sindarin princes,' but Penny ignored him and carried on talking.

"And what about Nargothrond and Menegroth?"

Her voice slowed and faltered as she spoke, however, after realising Rhimlath was, if not glaring at her exactly, then certainly giving her a 'hard' look.

"Do you presume to compare the glories of the ancient elvish realms to a mere natural cave formation?"

"But Menegroth was carved by dwarves, and if a dwarf says these caves will rival any that he knows of…"

Rhimlath raised his eyebrow in such a way that it left Penny in little doubt that, for all he had much respect for Gimli for Lady Galadriel's sake, he still would not wholly trust the opinion of a dwarf unless he had no choice in the matter.

"Rhimlath is an elf of the trees, Pen-ii," Lindir cut in. "Our kin in the north have followed the ancient ways of Thingol, perhaps, but I have never known such a life, nor has Rhimlath, and neither of us would feel comfortable."

"Even to be surrounded by this much stone…," Rhimlath murmured, looking up at one of the tall windows that showed little more than view of a patch of morning sky above a towering cliff face.

Penny did consider going over to sign herself up for the guided tour, but when she looked round to where he had been seated, it was clear Gimli had already left with Legolas and several others in tow.

After breakfast, as she and Mireth were about to leave, Arvain and Halladan came over, Halladan leaning forward to rest his hands on the table beside Penny, and Arvain hovering in the background, seemingly a little restless.

"How are you this morning, Pen-ii? Better refreshed for some sleep, I trust?"

Penny did not glance at Mireth, but she knew Mireth had given her a 'look' and knew Halladan or Arvain (if not both) would have clocked it. No point in lying.

"I rested well enough given it was a warm night."

Halladan nodded.

"To be expected."

Something in his voice said he understood all too well. Penny caught his eye. Instinctively they smiled, albeit sadly, at each other.

"Halladan? Shall we?"

Arvain seemed itching to get somewhere. Halladan laughed a little apologetically.

"Off to do some sparring practice. I think Arvain is restless. In all but a week we shall be heading north once more, after all."

The smile he gave them tried to be light and breezy, but Penny knew all too well it was a serious business. That and Arvain had energy to burn, or so it appeared given how eagerly he dragged his brother off for an hour or two's practice with a sword.

There was the opportunity to bathe that day which was gratefully accepted by all the travellers. The place had, after all, been built by Numenoreans, so there were several rooms in the base of the tower with floors that sloped gently to small holes in one corner, so one could bathe and the water would run out into some intricate system of channels deep within the cliff and eventually join the Deeping Stream. The females would have the use of the bathing rooms all morning, while after lunch it would be the turn of the males.

Water was heated and left in large basins, but it was still little more than a public stand-up wash, several to a room, armed with flannels, soap, shampoo and jugs, and helping to pour the water over each other as needed, much as had happened in the tents by the river beside Edoras. The difference being that there it had not been too unpleasant in a tent on a warm summer's day, whereas here the summer heat failed to penetrate the cool stone chambers, and it was an unpleasantly chilly experience standing about in the buff on the smooth flags with water dripping off you.

Still, as far as Penny was concerned, it helped to pass an hour or two. Today was a day of 'waiting till tomorrow when she could leave' as far as she was concerned.

It also seemed the irrepressible nature of elves was slowly reasserting itself given there was far more chatter and laughter during the bathing than there had been even a few days ago at the river. That also helped to pass the time and let Penny forget where she was and how she was feeling for a little while.

Back in the sparse austerity of their room, however, with Mireth combing out her hair and Penny idly admiring the selection of bejewelled hair ties the other ellith had strewn onto a nearby cot, it was a different matter. The thought of wandering about staring at places she little wanted to see once more, even if they would have taken on a different tone in the morning's bright summer sun as opposed to last night's gathering dusk, was not one that appealed. She was not in the right frame of mind. She said she would stay where she was and read for a while.

Mireth had to leave her to assist Elrond since several local people had turned up overnight to seek help for illnesses or war wounds, but a couple of the other ellith stayed for a little while, doing some embroidery and singing quietly, till they felt the light would be better outside for their work. Penny thanked them when they asked if she would join them, insisting she was happy as she was.

For a good half hour, then, Penny valiantly attempted to lose herself once more in the tale of Tuor, but her mind kept returning to the fact that both Galadriel and Celeborn had lived through those times, as well as a few other elves travelling with them. Glorfindel had known Tuor personally, of course, and indeed it was when she came to a paragraph describing Glorfindel that she felt that really what she was doing was no escape at all. She put the book aside and lay on her cot for a few minutes before deciding to seek out Erestor. He was bound to have something else she could read.

She managed to find her way out at last to the central courtyard, though her route there took her so long and via so many corridors that she was fairly convinced she finally exited via a door that was pretty much on the opposite side of the courtyard from where her room was situated. Various people were milling about, talking or laughing. Not many, though. When she quizzed the nearest group of elves they said that though most people were in the Deep or else wandering between the Wall and the Dike, Erestor was most likely in his chambers. One offered to take her there, leaving her at the door even as she knocked.

Glorfindel and Elrohir were with him. Penny apologised for disturbing them, and explained she was looking for something to read. Erestor seemed surprised.

"What of the books I gave you?"

She shrugged faintly apologetically.

"I was reading the tale of Tuor, but…" She glanced at Glorfindel. "Well, I would prefer something that is less historical, something in which to lose myself completely for an hour or so, that is all. I was thinking some poems, perhaps? Whatever you think might be best."

Erestor nodded, smiling. He crouched down to start rummaging in a small chest beside his bed, bringing out one book after another, reading the title, or flicking through the pages, considering its merit and suitability.

"I did have one other idea."

Penny paused.

"Yes?"

"Well, it has been a little while since my last formal Westron lesson. I was wondering if perhaps… if you are free, of course…"

"But of course, Pen-ii!" Erestor positively beamed. "I would be delighted!"

Glorfindel and Elrohir exchanged a glance. Glorfindel gave a half-laugh even as he spoke.

"Are you that desperate to have the time pass quickly?"

"In truth, the sooner we leave here, the better," Penny replied. "At another time, perhaps, I might better be able to cope with being here, but events in Gondor and then in Rohan have left me confronting the enormity of my situation for the first time in many months. I have too much else inside me to be anything other than very much out of sorts in this place."

Elrohir was nodding.

"Ada said you were only now managing to grieve."

Penny, looking at him as he spoke, gave a sad almost-smile, even as her gaze drifted towards the floor. Elrohir, seeing her reaction, came over to her. He laid one hand on her upper arm.

"Take comfort from the fact that you are surrounded by friends, Pen-ii. Anything we can do to help distract you a little, you only have to ask."

"Thank you, Elrohir. Truly."

Erestor had found a small book of poems and songs which were, for the most part, about love, the seasons and various flora and fauna. Ideal for Penny's needs. He stood and handed it to her.

"This should serve you well, Pen-ii. Now, I am happy enough to run through some Westron with you this very moment if you wish." He turned to Glorfindel and Elrohir who took that as a hint to leave.

"Oh, no, I did not wish to… That is to say, if you were…"

"Not at all, Pen-ii," Glorfindel was smiling. "Elrohir and I will join the others outside. We shall see you at the midday meal, no doubt."

Before they started Penny asked Erestor what Glorfindel had meant. Erestor merely smiled rather cryptically in the way that only an elf ever could and murmured something vague about more than wounds of grief to be healed and how this place would perhaps be that much brighter now it had known, albeit briefly, the presence of so many elves and so many of them great and noble ones to boot.

More elvish elvishness at work, it seemed.

But Penny was glad of it. Helm's Deep seemed so very dark and sombre, and not simply in her imagination. It carried the weight of that battle, so nearly a rout, upon it still, or so it seemed to her.

After an hour's Westron, and much pleasant idle chatter with Erestor, Penny headed back to her room with his book of poetry in one hand. It was, as Erestor had promised, exactly the sort of thing she had meant and she managed to lose herself in it utterly, relishing the language now she knew it that much better, imagining so clearly the pastoral images the words conjured up.

The rest of the morning slipped past almost unnoticed.

Mireth and Celebdor arrived to drag her off for lunch. It seemed Celebdor had been let in on part of the cause of Penny's melancholy because he muttered something about foresight being quite a burden at times, and it was best Penny keep herself as occupied as possible. He gave her shoulders a friendly squeeze as they wandered down the corridor.

Gimli and Legolas were nearby them at lunch and Legolas was strangely quiet as Gimli spoke almost non-stop about the caves, describing caverns and chambers and the rocks and stones therein. Penny was able to understand enough of it to be able to murmur appreciatively in the right points, and Gimli seemed glad of her enthusiasm. Apparently he had already hounded several people, including a few elves, hobbits and some Dunedain into coming with him to see the caves that afternoon, and he immediately asked if Penny would like to join them. Penny was thrilled.

"I take it you went to see them this morning?"

Legolas looked at her balefully.

"How did you find it? Is it as glorious as Gimli insists?"

"It is…" Legolas was clearly searching for the words, "…astonishing. I will admit I have never seen anything like it."

"Beautiful?"

Legolas hesitated.

"My friend finds beauty in its rawness. He can see beauty as it is now, but also in what an army of dwarves would carve from it. I can appreciate it on one level, but…" He seemed faintly uncomfortable. "The caves delve too deep, too large under the mountain for any of my kin."

"So it would make a good dwarfhold, then?" Penny said with a grin.

"Well, so he seems to think…"

Legolas stopped himself and looked at her for a moment as if guessing the truthful prediction in her words. Penny looked away but was unable to hide the slight smile on her face. Legolas glanced at Gimli beside him, still busily describing glittering stalagmites to an enthralled Pippin even through a mouthful of cold roast meat, grinned and then laughed.

Straight after lunch, then, Penny joined a party of at least a dozen or so to go and see the Glittering Caves. As she left the hall she spotted Arvain, though there was no sign of Halladan anywhere. She stopped to ask if he wished to join them, but even as she did so she could see he did not seem as usual. He was certainly affable enough as he smiled, thanked her and declined her offer, but there seemed to be a certain tension about him, as if something was troubling him.

"Where is Halladan? Would he care to join us, do you think?"

"I have not seen him since this morning."

His voice seemed strained as if he were both annoyed but also concerned. Everything had seemed fine at breakfast between the two of them. What on earth had happened?

"Arvain, what…?"

But Penny got no further. Not only could she see Arvain glancing quickly to those still seated near him, as if whatever she would ask he could not openly answer in company, but at that moment she was cut off by Pippin calling her name as he waited for her at the doorway. She had to go or risk losing the others in the maze of corridors. Gimli had marched off at quite a pace.

"It is nothing." Arvain smiled, but Penny could see from his eyes it was a little forced. "Do not concern yourself. He wanted some time alone and… I was happy to oblige."

Penny raised her eyebrows. That did not sound good.

"Go." His smile was warmer and genuine this time. "Go and see the caves. Their beauty is well known. I saw some of them last time I was here."

Penny hesitated for a moment, but Pippin called her name once more, glancing anxiously out into the corridor as he did so, and Arvain gestured with his head, his smile broadening a little, insistent she should go.

Penny nodded and muttered something about 'well, if he was certain' and hurried over to Pippin. As she reached him, though, she threw a glance back behind her towards Arvain, who, now she had moved on, seemed serious once more, staring into his cup of ale with his brows furrowed a little. From the sound of it this was more than mere lack of pipeweed at work. She was concerned about Halladan now also, berating herself a little for being so caught up in her own feelings that she had not remembered that things might be just as hard for him and his brother, indeed for all the Dunedain who would remember when they were last here and those amongst them now fallen.

She tried to think no more about it – after all there was little she could do at the moment - and the company she was in certainly helped. Pippin and Sam were looking forward to seeing the caves and were full of chatter and excitement. Frodo and Merry had gone in the morning contingent and had come back agog at what they had seen, apparently.

As they headed out into the Deep, Penny could not help but notice there were quite a few elves walking here and there, mostly chatting, some sitting and singing, but all looking very much as if they were 'at home' and their very presence in amongst the dark stone lightened it and lifted some of the oppressiveness.

The path that ran the length of the ravine of Helm's Deep was well laid with stone. On either side there were wide spaces of rough grass with patches of scattered stones and scree with the huge cliff faces rising up on the far sides, though closing in with every step till at last they narrowed to a solid wall of rock.

The entrance way to the caves was wide enough for three horses to get through but no more. It was obvious it would be relatively easy to defend well, given there was no access to it except via the path and the rock face was sheer above it. That small entrance seemed deceptively insignificant, and yet the moment you stepped through it and started down the wide slope, you could see ahead of you a massive chamber opening out, filled with horses, hay, supplies and men wandering to and fro. On one side of the chamber a channel had been cut to carry part of some underground stream that way so there was a permanent water supply for both man and beast. The smell of horse, and horse dung, however, was somewhat 'ripe' to say the least.

It was somewhere near the back of this vast chamber that the journey truly began, and it did not disappoint.

Even though the few elves in their party certainly seemed increasingly uncomfortable the deeper into the cave system they went (and one by one murmured apologies and headed back to be with the horses), the rest were entranced. Gimli led them, lantern in hand, down a network of interconnecting caves and paths, some of which were at times narrow and low-ceilinged and at others wide and with sheer walls of rock on either side that seemed to stretch interminably above their heads. Every other person in the party carried a torch or a lantern, but even so when they reached the largest caverns they seemed to make little impact beyond an area of a few feet around the edge of the group.

Everywhere they looked, the walls shone. At times it was due to water, slowly dripping down to form stalactites and stalagmites or simply to course in slow rivulets down the walls. At other times there was even a strange, near luminescence within the rock itself, but there were also seams of gemstones, metallic ore or exposed lumps of crystals that seemed to be almost everywhere you looked. Not only that but there was, at times, a glittering sheen on the surface of the rock that years of polishing by water, now long gone, had achieved.

It was breathtaking.

And the more Gimli talked, the quieter the others became, lost in wonder at the gloriousness of it all. For his part, Gimli frankly admitted he loved the place more each time he saw it.

"It lifts my heart to see it," he said as they finally emerged, blinking into the sunlight like so many owls, "Truly, I never thought to see such wonders. I thought they had long been lost to my kin. Ah, I shall miss this place when at last we leave here. But I shall take the memory of it with me to the north, and all my kin shall know of the beauty that lies here."

Penny smiled to herself but said nothing.

As they neared the Burg, the Wall looming large next to it, Penny noticed Legolas waiting for them, talking to a group of Galadhrim near the bottom of the steps leading up to the tower.

"Ah, Pen-ii. You are done with your tour of the caves? How did you find it?"

"I am lost for words, Legolas. Beautiful, if a little forbidding. I am glad I had such company with me. I would not like to be there on my own."

Legolas laughed.

"No, indeed."

He paused, letting some of the others walk on past them.

"So, are you ready to take up my offer of yesterday?"

Penny said she was, but asked if he would mind if she went to freshen up a little first. She felt a little sooty from the torches and, even though it was chilly in the caverns, she was a little sticky from the exertion at points, her hands dirty from scrambling over rocks or touching the sides of caverns and her feet wet and muddy. Legolas said he would meet her in the courtyard when she was ready.

A brief wash and a change of shoes later, and Penny found her way out to the main courtyard. Legolas led her out of the main gate and down the long ramp to the greensward in front of the Wall first of all. He was taking her down towards the Dike's rampart, talking as he did so of the lead up to the battle, how the preparations had gone and the general mood amongst the men as they waited for the assault to begin. Then he led her up a row of steps cut into the rampart's bank, then up a ladder to the platform that ran along the length of the rampart itself. The view from the top was quite something – you could see the whole valley stretching out ahead of you.

Legolas then began at the beginning, telling the story that Penny knew so well. He had, of course, told her much of this before back in Minas Tirith, but this time he was able to actually point out landmarks or areas in question.

"That is the route we travelled, the same path that is most commonly taken. You can make it out easily enough, even with your mortal eyesight. You see that larger series of hills? About a league's distance? We found several dead Rohirrim there, those who had been caught by the chasing Uruk. They had made a valiant stand but were outnumbered. Of course, in the dark, terrified, it was no easy matter for them. When we finally made it up here we learnt they had been the rearguard of a retreating group rounded up by Mithrandir. The Uruk had pressed them so closely that they were in danger of being overtaken and surrounded, so that small band of men had insisted the others hurry on while they turned to face their chasers. They never stood a chance, even though by their actions the others made it here in safety."

He fell silent for a while.

Penny wondered how this was going to benefit her given the mood it was putting her in, but then she remembered what Gandalf had said about the known being easier to deal with than the unknown, took a deep breath and steeled herself to hear whatever else Legolas felt he should share with her.

He led her back down to the greensward, walking slowly, gesturing up to the Wall or round about him as he described the fall of the Dike, the retreat of those defending it, and the onslaught of the Uruks and Dunlendings. He pointed out areas where particular things had happened, where this man had fallen defending the Dike, where Aragorn and Theoden had ridden in the last charge at dawn, where the grappling hooks had landed.

It seemed strangely incongruous that even as he did so, groups of elves were wandering past or could be heard singing from various points.

Back up the rampart, at the gate, he turned, indicating the little path to the side door that Aragorn, Eomer and Gimli had used. It gave Penny vertigo just thinking about it – it was little more than a three-foot-wide ledge and with no handrail or barrier. He even pointed out where Aragorn had stood above the gate to talk to the enemy, to foretell of their impending defeat.

"Of course it is hard to see it now. They have had to rebuild it since those… blasted it apart only moments later."

Penny wondered what word he would have said when he paused. It had been as if had checked himself, held himself back from saying something perhaps more emotive than would be acceptable in polite, common parlance. She glanced at him and could see the rage and disgust in his face.

And so, at last, he led her to the little side door and the steps down to the Wall from the Burg. Here he became even more animated, discussing his point of view of the battle given he had spent a good part of it on the Wall, what he himself had seen and experienced, even pointing out where he had found most of his arrows focused from time to time.

"Though at times even I had to resort to my knives," he conceded.

They had not been on the Wall long when they spotted Arvain on a little way ahead of them, standing looking out onto the greensward below as if trying to see who might be out there. Legolas called his name and he looked up, smiling on seeing them, though Penny thought she could still see some tension round his eyes. She wanted to pick up their conversation of lunchtime but thought it best not to just yet given they were not alone.

Legolas explained he was giving Penny an account of the battle. Arvain immediately asked if he might join them.

"I came out to look for Halladan, but there is no sign of him out towards the Dike that I can tell so far, so I might as well join you and look out for him here on the Wall at the same time, no?"

He smiled that charmingly disarming smile of his and fell into step alongside Legolas as he continued to relate his version of events. Penny tried not to feel too concerned by the possible implication that Arvain had still not seen his brother since some time that morning.

As he listened to Legolas, Arvain would occasionally nod or say something that indicated he understood from a warrior's or tactician's point of view. For the most part, though, he remained quiet, seemingly as intrigued to hear Penny interject to relate what she knew of the battle as he was to listen to Legolas's first-hand account.

For Penny, it was so very strange to have this guided tour from one who had been there, one who could accurately and, to some extent, almost dispassionately, point to a spot and say 'yes, this is what happened on exactly those stones or patch of grass you can see in front of you.' It certainly made everything that much more concrete in her mind, but at the same time made it more factual rather than her imagination running away with itself. Legolas had witnessed it, lived through it, and yet he spoke calmly and quietly, with compassion for those who had fallen, but also with a certain objectivity that helped Penny to be able to adopt the same attitude. It had helped her in Minas Tirith and it was helping her once more here. She felt a wave of gratitude towards him.

There were a few others on the Wall, it being such a great length and there being a somewhat limited repertoire of places to go to. It seemed Aragorn was giving a similar tour to that which Legolas was undergoing, though this time with perhaps more austere company, given Elrond and Celeborn were with him and grilling him somewhat extensively as to company positions, tactics and specifics. Greetings were made by all and Legolas was stayed for a few moments by some questions from Elrond and Celeborn. Penny and Arvain carried on walking.

When they were a reasonable distance, Penny felt it safe enough to speak.

"What is wrong, Arvain? What has happened? With Halladan, I mean. He seemed fine at breakfast."

Arvain glanced at her.

"It is nothing to concern yourself with." He tried a smile, but Penny could see he was simply trying to calm her fears. "Halladan… seemed out of sorts this morning at our practice, that is all. He refused to continue, stormed out. I have not seen him since."

"What?!"

Penny tried to keep her voice down, but the worry in her voice was evident. Arvain looked uncomfortable and sighed heavily.

"In truth I fear it was my fault. I…I have felt a little out of sorts myself these past few days. Faelon jokes it is the lack of pipeweed, which might well be true, but also being here…" He paused before changing tack entirely. "I felt the need to do something energetic, something that would fill some time, and I pressed Halladan into joining me, insisting he needed to exercise that leg of his or risk it rusting up completely. Looking back I suspect he only agreed to it to please me. He did not seem himself at all once we started, hesitant with his blows, not the swordsman I know he is. I… commented on it." He glanced at her, his expression guilty and apologetic. "I was a little freer with my tongue than perhaps I should have been. I only meant it in jest, but…"

He trailed off.

Penny's brain was going at a million miles a minute.

"When was the last time he practiced?"

Arvain shrugged but seemed even more uncomfortable, as if he could guess her line of thinking.

"His leg could bear little weight for any length of time till recently."

And Penny was not aware of any practice being done by the Dunedain as they had travelled in recent days, which could only mean…

Arvain looked sideways at her, his look full of meaning, but it was enough to make the matter clear.

Arvain turned away to look ahead, and as he did so reacted to whatever it was that he had seen. Penny looked up also and could see a solitary figure, dressed in the dark greys and browns of the Dunedain some way ahead of them. Arvain shouted out even as Penny registered who it was.

"Halladan!"

Halladan glanced up in their direction. He nodded but did not smile. It took them some minutes to reach him.

"Feeling better, I trust, for a day by yourself?"

Arvain was trying to sound breezily unconcerned as they reached him. Halladan forced an apologetic smile at him.

"I am sorry I lost my temper. I should not have."

"Think no more of it. I apologise for perhaps having forced you to do something you did not feel you were ready for. After all, the leg is still healing."

Halladan looked at him, as if he wanted to say something to that but was forcing himself not to. He seemed unwilling at first to accept the 'out' that Arvain was giving him.

"Yes," he said at last, turning back to look out through the arrow slit nearby. "Yes, my leg is still a little weak, that is true."

There was a pause. Penny wondered if she should perhaps wander back to talk with Legolas and the others but Arvain was talking once more.

"You know, seeing you standing there from a distance, for a moment I thought…" He gave a half-hearted half-laugh. "A trick of the mind for a mere moment, that was all."

Halladan looked at him.

"You do look very like him sometimes."

Halladan sighed heavily and nodded.

"I have memories of him here too. And Hirvell."

Okay, time to go.

"Perhaps, I should…"

"No, no, Pen-ii. Do not mind us. You have your burdens in this place also, I know. Aragorn told me they saw you up here last night, lost in your thoughts for quite a long time. Do you forget we saw the reaction you had to coming here?" Halladan gave a half-smile. "You must forgive us if we are perhaps not best able to help distract you of late."

"Not at all. I can well understand that… you remember your last visit here."

Arvain was nodding, looking out towards the Deep but at nothing in particular.

"I keep half expecting to meet Hirvell every time I walk down a corridor in that place." He nodded distractedly towards the Burg. "It was a strange time. We had journeyed so hard and so fast, and to suddenly have achieved our goal, to have found and met Aragorn, to be here and preparing for war, preparing for the moment for which Aragorn had waited all of his life…" He sighed. "It was a moment of calm, and yet the very air was alive with mounting apprehension." He laughed quietly. "The Rohirrim said to me later that they thought us very serious, very tall and imposing in our near silence. Little did they know it was because of the tension coiled within us, waiting for what we knew must lie ahead. None of us slept that night we were here. Hirvell could not stop pacing up and down our room, do you remember, Halladan?" He laughed once more, not waiting for a reply. "Faelon threw him out into the corridor at the last. Said if he wanted to tramp about to do it elsewhere where others were not trying to rest."

"I dreamt your father met my mother last night," Penny blurted out. Arvain turned to her with a chuckle.

"Indeed?"

"It was very strange. They were in my mother's house, chatting away as if it was the most normal thing in the world, and neither were listening to me. Mother was trying to find pictures of me as a child to show him and he was complimenting her on her cake."

Arvain laughed loud.

"Ah, Father always had a bit of a sweet tooth, though he would never admit it. Do you remember that business with Morfinniel's seed cakes, Halladan?"

Arvain had turned to his brother as he had asked and Penny had looked towards Halladan with him, curious to know what the end of this story would be given Morfinniel was, she knew, the name of Faelon's wife and anything that involved Halbarad and Faelon or their families was usually a story worth hearing.

Halladan, however, did not reply. Indeed, now they looked, they realised he had turned away, and perhaps had been turned away for some time. Penny immediately suspected that the talk of Hirvell and Halbarad, particularly here in this place so resonant with the memories of them both, was too much and he had turned to hide his tears.

Clearly Arvain had the same thought, since his face showed his compassion even as he exchanged a glance with Penny.

"Ai, Halladan, forgive me. I should not have spoken so freely perhaps, not after this morning…"

Penny had stepped towards Halladan to see if he was alright. She gently said his name and laid one hand on his arm.

In a split second, several things happened almost simultaneously.

The moment her hand fell on Halladan's arm, he spun round with a speed that took Penny entirely by surprise and grabbed hold of her by the forearm with such force and so tight a grip that it hurt her.

That had shocked her, but what scared her was the fact that she could immediately tell that, even though he was looking at her, he could not see her. His face was twisted into something terrible: a Dunadan in full, stern, warrior fury.

In the same moment that Halladan grabbed her, Arvain shouted out his brother's name and made to rush towards him, no doubt to pull Penny from his hold, but even as she heard him shout out, Penny shook her head at him furiously, hissing a 'No!' at him as loudly as she dared.

Arvain stared at her in shock, confused but also angry; shocked and appalled at his brother's actions (and at what it implied), in fear for her safety and thus furious that she would try and stop him from intervening in what he knew to be a potentially very dangerous situation. He had seen Halladan's right hand grasp hold the pommel of the dagger on his belt as he had grabbed Penny's arm even if she had not, though Arvain suspected Penny had indeed noticed.

He stayed still, but still roared his brother's name once more, the desperate concern clear in his tone.

"HALLADAN!"

This time it must have filtered through because Halladan instantly loosed his hold on Penny to turn wildly, breathing hard, looking round him as if for whoever had called his name, his expression saying everything: someone (perhaps he had even recognised it as Arvain) was calling for him and he could not see them in amongst whatever else was invading his sight. However, as he turned, stepping blindly, he moved dangerously close to the low balustrade on the Deep side of the Wall, to within a mere few feet of it.

Penny was livid. Even as Arvain had shouted his brother's name a second time and Halladan had wheeled away from her, she glared at Arvain, hissing 'Shut up!' at him angrily.

Arvain gaped at her, the confusion and fury evident in his eyes.

Penny merely angrily flapped her hand at him, making it absolutely clear that he should back away and not intervene further.

Then, to Arvain's utter astonishment, she started to sing. It was the first thing she could think of to do that might, if Halladan could hear it, be incongruous enough with whatever else was going on in his head and stop him from stepping any further backwards and falling over the edge of the balustrade.

The first thing that popped into her head was one of the elvish songs that she had heard several times now – a generic love song that had a pretty tune and could be sung solo or with several alternate choral lines accompanying, and which seemed just as well known by Galadhrim and residents of Imladris alike. She could not remember all the words, but la-la-la-ed for the bits she could not remember. Even as she started, she flapped at Arvain once more, her teeth clenching briefly in her anger as she did so.

Arvain, clearly at something of a loss, turned and ran for those he knew were a little distance behind him.

Even as Penny watched him go, she suddenly realised what he was doing. Halladan would be mortified and furious when he finally came to, not only to learn what had happened but to have had those people involved as well.

Still, there was little that could be done now.

She was glancing between Arvain and Halladan, and could see as Arvain came near to the others that they had already started moving towards him, though whether because they had heard his shout from before and seen something of what had happened, or whether it was enough for them to now see the expression on his face, Penny did not know. Arvain was beckoning them to follow him, and they were not hesitating, could see the urgency in his face, had glanced ahead and, with elvish sight, no doubt seen who it involved, perhaps guessed at the nature of the crisis, and were hurrying after him.

Halladan was coming to. She could see it in his eyes. Who knew how long he had been having the flashback before they had realised. She quietened her song, then faltered, then stopped completely even as the others neared them.

"Pen-ii?"

"Hush, Halladan, it is over. Step this way a little, you are too close to the edge."

Halladan did as she said, looking round him distractedly.

"I am sorry, Halladan, but Arvain has gone to fetch…"

She had no chance to finish. Even as Halladan looked in the direction she had indicated, the others reached them.

"What is happening?" Elrond's concern was clear.

"Halladan?"

Aragorn had quickly stepped towards him. Halladan seemed utterly bewildered, almost close to tears. Aragorn put his arm about his shoulder.

"Come, let us get you inside."

As Aragorn led him off, Celeborn with him, Arvain came over to Penny.

"Are you hurt?"

Penny saw the alarmed glances his question elicited and glared at him.

"No!"

Legolas glanced up to see others on the Wall walking towards them.

"I think it best we get inside as Aragorn suggested." He looked at Elrond. "Should I find Mithrandir?"

Elrond paused before nodding.

"Yes, I think that might be wise."

Penny could not be certain what, if anything, had been seen or noted by the others before Arvain had brought their attention to it. All she knew was that she felt angry and irritated on Halladan's behalf that now an almighty fuss was going to be made over what had happened. Yes, it had been alarming and serious. Of course it had. But she knew perfectly well that Halladan would find it difficult enough to learn what had happened without having to do so in company and possibly have such people taking him to task over it as well.

It took her a few moments to get her composure before she could begin to follow the others. She noted Arvain was waiting for her, which also annoyed her. Indeed he actually seemed to be hanging back from the others a little quite deliberately as they walked back along the Wall. She also got the distinct impression he was nearly as furious as she was.

All along the Wall, then, the two walked slowly side by side but with that sort of angular tautness that people who are silently fuming convey. Once inside the Burg, Aragorn made for the nearest empty room, a small antechamber which was little more than a part-time storeroom, but also had a few chairs in it and one small window, high up, that let in a little light.

It was only when they saw the others turning into the small room ahead of them that Arvain finally stopped and turned to Penny.

"What exactly did you think you were doing back there?"

He was keeping his voice down, and he was speaking near enough through clenched teeth.

"I beg your pardon?"

Penny's tone of voice matched his exactly: barely suppressed anger.

"You hissing at me to be quiet and flapping at me to go away! In case you had forgotten, Pen-ii, Halladan is my brother! Perhaps you did not realise it, but you were in very real danger!"

"Do you think I did not know that?! At least I was not yelling my head off, and managing to alarm him into moving dangerously close to the edge of the Wall!"

"I WAS TRYING TO HELP YOU!"

"AND I WAS TRYING TO HELP HALLADAN! How do you think he will feel now all these people are involved in what happened out there?!"

"Are you saying they should not know?! He could have seriously hurt you!"

"If you had done what I was trying to tell you to do in the first place…!"

"How DARE you tell me what to do when it concerns my brother!"

A cough from behind them in the corridor interrupted them. They looked round to see Gandalf and Legolas eyeing them with some surprise, their eyebrows raised.

Gandalf stepped past them, gesturing to the small antechamber as he did so.

"Shall we?" he said, pleasantly enough, but with that particular, steely firmness of his that he used on occasion that brooked no argument.

Penny and Arvain, shooting each other one final glare, followed behind him looking strangely like chastised schoolchildren in his wake.

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

Menegroth was the name of the halls in Doriath, originally carved by dwarves but most renowned as the elvish stronghold of Thingol and Melian. Nargothrond was the stronghold of Finrod Felagund, and also carved into the rock in imitation of Menegroth. Both were elvish realms in Beleriand. See The Silmarillion.

I seem to remember having used the expression 'clocked' before and it causing some confusion. It's British slang meaning 'to take note of', 'to spot' or 'see' something.

Rest assured that, even though this chapter took a long time coming, the next one will be posted very shortly (so the cliffhanger will not be left hanging long, I promise). ;)

As ever, my sincere thanks to all those taking time out to read this fic, to review and comment or get in touch, and also those adding my fics to their faves – it is all much appreciated.


	47. Dirty Linen

As promised, here is the next chapter hot on the heels of the last one. I cannot guarantee chapter 48 will not take a while, however.

As ever, many sincere thanks to all who read and review. It is humbling and quite fantastic that people still enjoy this. Thank you all.

* * *

**Chapter 47** - _"Dirty Linen"_

Halladan was seated, looking pale and very ill at ease if not, frankly, distressed. He was sipping something from a cup that Penny instantly recognised as the cap from an elvish flask – much like the one Elladan carried and from which she had drunk miruvor after she had fainted on first seeing him. There seemed to be a slight tremor to his hand as he brought the metal cup to his lips.

Elrond was standing beside him, holding the flask in question in his hand, no doubt encouraging him to drink. Aragorn was sitting next to him, at right angles to Halladan, his elbows on the arms of the chair, his hands interlocked and his forefingers steepled together against his lips as he looked at Halladan. His face was grave. Celeborn was hanging back a little, no doubt conscious of the fact that the others knew Halladan far better than he did. Legolas joined him as he followed Penny and Arvain inside, closing the door and leaning back against it while Celeborn stood beside him, the pair thus somewhat removed from the proceedings.

"Legolas has told me something of what has happened," Gandalf said as he slowly walked over to Halladan, coming to stand on the other side of him from Elrond, "but clearly it is serious indeed if I find these two squabbling outside the door because of it."

He gestured at Arvain and Penny as he spoke and both instinctively stood a little straighter, each feeling themselves a little hard done by. Aragorn and Elrond looked at them, their brows furrowed.

"I thought I could hear raised voices," Celeborn murmured.

Halladan looked up at him and then at Arvain and Penny in some surprise.

"Squabbling?"

It was Aragorn who asked. He seemed concerned, and perhaps a little unimpressed.

"Well, I was being polite."

Gandalf looked at the pair of them. Penny was trying not to meet anyone's gaze and was staring at the floor in front of her, her jaw tight with tension. Arvain glared at her accusingly. After all, as far as he was concerned, she had behaved insanely just now on the Wall, and for her to then argue with him about it, let alone show him up in front of Gandalf, meant he was now very angry indeed. It was immediately apparent to all that both of them were bristling with annoyance with each other.

Aragorn and Elrond each raised an eyebrow.

"I think you had best take a seat and tell us what happened," Gandalf said at last.

There was a beat before Arvain turned to fetch a chair from the few up against one wall whilst Penny took the one Gandalf was indicating next to him and almost opposite Aragorn. Arvain brought his chair to sit next to hers. Gandalf, meanwhile, had turned to speak to Halladan directly.

"Forgive us, Halladan, but this is a serious matter. I do not doubt that this is and will be very difficult for you, to have this discussed openly and in company, but you must know that we only wish the best for you, and to help you."

"In which case," Legolas interrupted, "I shall wait outside and see to it that no one disturbs you, even if they might be looking for any here."

"And I shall keep you company, Legolas," Celeborn added. "No, no, Elrond, do not protest. You have no need for me here, since I do not doubt you, Mithrandir and Estel are more than capable between you of helping Halladan through this. Not only that but the more who have to hear such things as might make Halladan uncomfortable admitting to publicly, the more difficult it will be for him. If you need me, you will find me just on the other side of this door."

Legolas had already opened the door and headed out, and Celeborn turned to follow him when he stopped and turned back

"Halladan? Take what comfort you can in the fact that no one blames you for what has occurred. That, and you are amongst friends who care for you deeply, some of whom have seen this many times before."

There was a moment of stillness and then Halladan nodded by way of understanding, but only once and very slowly and stiffly as if every single muscle in his neck and jaw were so tight that he could barely move.

Celeborn inclined his head and left.

"Well, now," Gandalf said gently once the door was closed once more. "I take it you have little memory of what happened?"

Halladan leant forward, his arms on his thighs, and let his head drop slightly as he shook it slowly by way of reply.

"So," Gandalf continued, turning back to face the room, but more particularly Penny and Arvain, "Halladan has had a waking dream of some sort, yes?"

Elrond interrupted him.

"I should perhaps say that I am aware this is not the first time Halladan has had such an occurrence. We discussed it in some detail after Aragorn persuaded Halladan to talk to me."

Penny looked at Elrond and then Halladan with a mixture of astonishment and pleasant surprise on her face. For Arvain, however, this was news (if perhaps no complete surprise).

"Not the first time? I knew of the night terrors, but…"

If they could have seen his face, they would have known Halladan was wincing. As it was, his entire posture screamed of his discomfiture to have his every weakness so openly discussed above his head. Every muscle was tensed and straining.

"It is not uncommon for those affected by battle, Arvain," Elrond replied, his tone gentle and infinitely kind and understanding. "We all know this." He looked at Halladan, even though Halladan did not look up. "We are all warriors here, Halladan, (well, barring Pen-ii, naturally) and we all know full well such things can occur. Lord Celeborn spoke truly just now. There is no shame in it, as I told you before, though I know you will find that hard to say of yourself, even if you would be ready enough to say it of anyone else so affected."

He gave a slight smile even as he took hold of Halladan's shoulder, squeezing it gently before letting go.

There followed a silence during which time everyone except Halladan looked to Penny and Arvain, but neither seemed willing to speak.

"Well?" Aragorn said at last, glancing from one to the other. "Clearly something extraordinary happened for you to have shouted as you did, Arvain, let alone come running to enlist our aid."

Penny and Arvain seemed either unwilling to respond or else were having difficulty knowing quite how to explain matters.

"Well…," Arvain began at last, but almost instantly Penny cut him off.

"Halladan came a little close to the edge of the Wall," she said hurriedly, "that was all."

Arvain gaped at her.

"That was all?! Pen-ii, how can you…?!"

He looked round at the others clearly somewhat exasperated. They could see he was struggling to contain his emotions, not least of which was obvious irritation with Penny herself. He looked over at his brother, sitting stock still, the elvish flask cap between his feet and his head now in his hands, waiting to hear the worst.

"Forgive me, Halladan. I would not tell you this for the world, but you must know the truth of it."

He breathed heavily, letting his gaze drop. Several moments passed before he looked up at Aragorn, Elrond and Gandalf once more.

"He… grabbed hold of Pen-ii by the arm, and with some force from what I could tell. He did not know who she was. I…" There was a long pause. "I genuinely feared for her."

Halladan's head slipped forwards as Arvain spoke, his hands coming up from his forehead to grip into his hair. The sound of something like a sigh or a quiet groan escaped him.

The atmosphere in the room was instantly darker and more tense

"That is indeed very serious." Aragorn's tone was grim.

Elrond exchanged a concerned glance with Aragorn, and Gandalf's expression showed how much he was troubled by hearing such news.

"He did me no harm."

Penny's voice sounded very small as she stared at her hands in her lap.

"I could see how tight his grip was, Pen-ii," Arvain responded sharply. "Are you honestly telling me he did not hurt you?"

"He did me _no harm_," Penny repeated emphatically, still staring at her hands and trying not to think about the dull ache somewhere in her forearm where she suspected Halladan had possibly left bruises.

"He had his hand on his knife!"

Halladan had already closed his eyes but now screwed them tight shut. His brow furrowed and his entire face contorted.

"I know that, Arvain," Penny rounded on him as she spoke, "but I startled him! It was my fault! If I had realised…!" She looked round at the others, her expression desperate and pleading as she spoke. "I thought he was upset, perhaps trying to hide his tears since we had been speaking of Halbarad and Hirvell for some minutes. I… I laid my hand on his arm, thinking to ask if he was well, to offer some sort of comfort…" She dropped her gaze, berating herself. "If I had stopped to think for just one moment, if I had looked first to see what ailed him, I would have realised he was having a waking dream and not dared to disturb him. I shocked him, surprised him. It was entirely understandable that he reacted as he did."

"Pen-ii, that is no…!"

"Yes, it IS, Arvain! Elbereth, I thought this was well-known as a condition amongst you, so even you should know, Arvain! It is a common enough possibility amongst my people, my time, that a man returned home from war might be so affected by what he has experienced that it might be reckless to surprise him, especially from sleep, or so it is said in common talk. I have no experience of soldiers in my life, as you know, so I do not know how true that is, but it is something that is said and widely known. Indeed you even hear stories, though again how true I do not know, of men not affected by such things but merely so well trained to be aware of an ambush that if asleep their instinct is such that they can react as if to a surprise attack if someone rouses them unexpectedly and startles them. So why should it not be the same for someone in such a state as Halladan was at that moment? All I needed to do was to stay still and quiet, to allow the moment to pass and no harm would have come…."

"Are you insane?! My brother is amongst the finest warriors I know! He could have killed you in an instant! I saw the expression on his face, Pen-ii, and if I had not distracted him as I had…!"

"It was your distracting him that had him moving towards the edge of the Wall, Arvain!" Penny's tone made it clear to all that she was just as angry with him as he with her. "I was telling you to be quiet but you would not listen!"

"When a man is in such a state he has no control, no awareness of what is truth or dream! As such you were in great danger and for you to attempt to refuse to allow me to help you…!"

"Wait, what?" Aragorn interrupted, astonished. "Is this true, Pen-ii?"

"It was entirely understandable that Arvain shouted at first. He was shocked, as shocked as I, I have no doubt, and scared for my safety, of course, and for which I am grateful to him and thankful, but it was also the worst thing he could have done given..."

"HOW DARE YOU?!"

"Arvain…"

Gandalf's gentle voice cut across him, and he held up the palm of his hand, indicating that Arvain should calm himself and not lose his temper.

"All it needed was for everything to stay quiet and calm, wait for it to pass…"

"You cannot know that!"

"Yes, I _can_, Arvain!"

"ENOUGH!"

Halladan had lifted his head from his hands and was looking at them with such a mixture of pain, self-disgust and distress on his face that it hurt Penny to see it.

"Pen-ii, I…" He shook his head. Words failed him for a moment. "I will never forgive myself for… Arvain is right. You should have heeded him, allowed him to intervene…"

"And have you react to him as if to an enemy?! Eru Alone knows what you were seeing at that moment, Halladan, and if someone had grabbed hold of you, tried to wrestle with you, perhaps, can you imagine how you might have reacted, what might have happened? And so close to the edge of the Wall?"

Penny was appalled and they could see it on her face.

"And if you had struggled in my grasp or I had perhaps thought you were about to do so?"

He looked at her levelly, gauging her reaction to his words. She looked back as calmly as she could.

"I had no intention of doing so. The moment I realised what the situation was, I intended to stay as calm and as still as possible."

"Pen-ii is right to some extent," Gandalf said quietly. "I am afraid that any physical restraint might have made matters worse, however it is also true, Pen-ii, that you were in a situation of potentially great danger."

"If he was going harm me he would have done so instantly. He did not. He held my arm and no more. I am certain nothing more would have happened if…"

"How can you say you are certain?!" Arvain snapped. "With all due respect, Pen-ii, you have no experience of such things, let alone of war or warriors or what they are capable of! You could not have had any idea what Halladan might or might not do in that moment. It may be you wanted to believe he would recognise you, but… and it pains me greatly to say it, as much as I am sure it pains Halladan to hear it, but in that moment, Pen-ii, he had no notion who you were. It was clear in his face."

"I have to agree," Aragorn interjected quietly. "I fear, Pen-ii, if the situation was as Arvain describes it, then you could not have known what Halladan's next action would be."

Penny felt acutely aware suddenly that everyone in the room was looking at her a little more intently than before and with not a little curiosity.

"Well… I…"

She shrugged, now feeling (and looking) distinctly uncomfortable. She accidentally caught Halladan's eye and looked away again just as quickly.

"It has to be asked, Pen-ii," Elrond said slowly, "how you can sound so very certain."

"It makes sense, does it not? As I said, if he was going to attack me he would have done so immediately, not go for his knife and then hesitate."

"And taking hold of your arm in the violent manner he did was not enough?" Arvain asked, his tone dark.

Penny did not answer.

"Arvain is right, Pen-ii," Aragorn said. "Halladan is not to blame, of course he is not, but as even he has said, you were foolish indeed to risk at guessing no more harm would come to you."

A brief silence fell during which, perhaps, those present were waiting for Penny to accept their point and back down, or else explain herself further. It was clear, however, that there was an edge of defiance to her, something in the straightness of her back, the way she held her head high that said, for all she would not look them in the eye, she was convinced of her position. As the silence extended to several seconds, glances were exchanged around the room.

It was Gandalf who spoke at last.

"Ah, but, Aragorn, I believe Pen-ii when she says she felt herself to be certain. Indeed I suspect it was no guess at all… was it, Pen-ii? It has to be accepted that your explanation is a fair one: if Halladan were to have acted it would mostly likely have been in that first instant and thus for you to stay still was the best course open to you; but it has to be remarked upon, and I am sure all here will agree, that for someone in such a position as that in which you found yourself to manage to think so lucidly, so clearly in an instant, and particularly when the person is one such as yourself who is not used to such crises, not trained in them as, by contrast, all this room have been from an early age… Well, you can appreciate our confusion and our interest in your assessment of the situation, especially given how it is so completely at odds with everyone else's."

Penny was aware that even Halladan was looking at her with some intensity now.

She tried desperately to think of a way to answer Gandalf without giving anything away. She had made a promise to Halladan back in Gondor and she would stick by that promise for as long as he held her to it. She knew this would be the perfect moment to talk about it, indeed, frankly, were it up to her she would have told them what had happened that fateful day on the Pelennor long ago, but she would not now voluntarily break her word to him, especially not given the clear distress and discomfort he was already in as it was.

Yet she could think of no other way to explain her thought processes and reaction to what had happened on the Wall beyond what she had already said. She just shrugged, managing to almost but not quite look Gandalf in the eye as she did so. Her failure to respond adequately to him spoke volumes.

Gandalf nodded slowly to himself.

"I see. In which case, let me be more direct: is it because that is what worked best the last time?"

Penny was not the only one to look at him in some surprise. The only one who did not was Halladan, who stared at the flagstones in front of him, his face suddenly ashen.

"What do you mean by that, Mithrandir?"

"Just what I said, Elrond." Gandalf turned back to Penny. "Well, Pen-ii? Am I correct?"

Penny's expression said far more than words ever could even if she could have found any to come out of her mouth. Gandalf smiled softly.

"I hope you are taking note of this, Halladan. She still will not speak of it. She has stayed loyal to you all this time and remained silent, even though she persisted in pushing you to get help as you yourself confessed to Aragorn. I can guess well enough you made her promise not to tell anyone, that you felt it hard enough to admit what was happening even to yourself, let alone have others know, and even now, even in such company she would rather make herself seem foolish and reckless than break that promise to you."

He turned to Halladan and laid one hand gently on his shoulder.

"I know this is difficult for you, but after what happened out there on the Wall… Well, you must surely realise that it must all come out now. If nothing else, even if as Pen-ii says you really would have done no further harm to her and it was her own contact with your arm that triggered the reaction in you, you still came dangerously close to the edge of the Wall by all accounts. Matters could have been very serious indeed out there. You do not need me to tell you that. I will not press you, either of you, but you are a wise young man, Halladan, like your father before you and I think you know it must be spoken of at last. Pen-ii has respected you enough to hold to her promise, though I do not doubt she found it hard to do so given the clear concern she had for your health, but it is time either you tell us what occurred or else allow her to speak freely."

Halladan had raised his head to look at Penny as Gandalf had spoken, his eyes shining with unshed tears. Penny held his gaze for as long as she could bear it and then had to look away. Arvain was staring in clear bewilderment and astonishment at the pair of them.

"Is this true?"

Penny's gaze flickered in Arvain's direction, but she could not look at anyone directly. She had her head bowed slightly, a knot in her stomach and her breathing slightly erratic, just waiting to see what would happen, what Halladan's reaction would be to this. She felt that he was still looking at her, and glanced up at last in time to see him look away towards Arvain.

"Yes," Halladan said at last, and his voice was a mere harsh whisper.

There was a brief silence.

"You know, I did wonder if that was the case." Aragorn's voice was little more than a murmur at first. "When you told me Pen-ii had spoken to you, pushed you into talking about the difficulties you were facing… I knew you would not have discussed such matters with her voluntarily. If you could not talk to me, Arvain, Faelon or to any of those who you have known all your life and yet you had discussed it with her, then it could only have been because something had forced you to admit it to her. I said as much to Gandalf…"

"And I agreed."

Silence fell once more. Penny briefly wondered if she should say something, but felt it was best that Halladan take the lead on this. It was a little while before he spoke at last and when he did his voice sounded hoarse and strained.

"Since I have no other course open to me than talk of this, then, yes, what Gandalf says is true. It happened when Pen-ii and I were alone on the Pelennor that time. That is how she knew I was ill. I made her promise not to tell anyone."

He glanced up at Penny as he said that, perhaps in recognition of the fact that, as Gandalf had said, she had kept her promise all this time. Penny smiled hesitantly, if sadly, but his gaze dropped away almost instantly.

"Do not blame her for not speaking of it. I… I was somewhat forceful in my insistence on that point, but then she was equally insistent in return that I at least consider talking to one of you about it." He paused. "I had managed to avoid much of the Pelennor in all those months, but we were riding hard and fast, without much concern for where we were going. My only thought was to help Pen-ii forget what had happened for a while." He looked up vaguely, without really looking at anyone in particular. "It was the same day she was attacked by the thief," he explained. "When we stopped I did not even think of where we might be, did not recognise it at first, and then when I did..."

"It was a place you recognised from the battle?" Gandalf asked, gently. "The first time you had been back there?"

Halladan nodded. As the seconds stretched out once more it seemed a more detailed answer was expected but none was immediately forthcoming.

"Do you have any recollection of what happened?"

He shook his head in answer to Gandalf's question, but still seemed unwilling to say more. Again the seconds ticked away. It was Elrond who spoke at last, his voice quiet and soft, speaking as a healer with millennia of wisdom and lore behind him, who had seen so many suffer through grief and torment, not least his own wife. He spoke as someone who had known Halladan all his life, known his father and grandfather before him, someone who cared very deeply about him.

"For Pen-ii to have persisted in trying to get you to talk to someone, Halladan, I can only assume it was not a mere waking memory she witnessed." He glanced at Penny, perhaps hoping to catch her eye, encourage her to speak, but she was staring resolutely at her hands once more. "Would it be fair to guess that she must have had some cause for concern beyond what might be reasonably expected?"

Halladan said nothing, just leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands once more.

"Halladan," Elrond continued, his voice still calm, "if you remember when I spoke to you about this, I asked if any of the waking visions you had experienced had been anything other than passive and quiet. I suspected then you were holding something from me. Is that what happened or was today truly the first time such a thing has occurred? I need to know."

Halladan raised his head a little, bringing one hand to his mouth, brushing his fingertips over his lips nervously. He was staring somewhere ahead of him unseeing. It was clear he was struggling within himself to say something, summoning up the courage to answer Elrond. He closed his eyes for a moment and gave a heavy sigh of resignation.

"In truth I… I have little memory of what happened. All I know is…" He cut himself short and glanced briefly in Aragorn's direction, a pained half-glance before his head dropped back to his hands. "I am ashamed to have to admit this… I drew my sword on her."

The shock from the others was palpable. There were audible gasps.

"What?!"

"No!"

"Elbereth, Halladan!"

There was an awful silence.

"That is not what happened." Penny's voice was quiet but resolute. "I told you that at the time, Halladan. You did _not_ draw your sword on me…"

"I drew my sword whilst you were near me, Pen-ii, that is enough. I was not in control of myself," and the words were ground out through his teeth, bitterly wrung from him, "I could have killed you."

"But you did not. You were never close to attacking me."

"No?" He lifted his head sharply then to look at her, his eyes dark, serious and intense. "Can you be certain? And after what happened on the Wall just now, can you honestly still say that?"

It was as if the others were holding their breath, waiting for her to answer.

"For all that I was scared," she said hesitantly at last, "and, yes, I admit I was scared…"

"I told you to leave. I told you to get to horses."

"I know, but I was too bewildered to understand what was happening. It happened so quickly, Halladan. For a moment I honestly thought we were being attacked…"

"So all the more reason for you to have run to the horses," Halladan said grimly.

Penny hung her head a little at that. She knew he was right.

"Do not blame her, Halladan," Aragorn said kindly. "In a moment of panic and confusion it is hard to know what is the right thing to do. Pen-ii has had no experience of such moments."

'Well, other than the orc attack in the Misty Mountains,' Penny thought, remembering only too clearly how she had completely freaked out on that occasion.

"The important point is, Halladan," she continued, trying to respond to his original question, "that for all I was scared at first, I was convinced, once I had started talking to you, that I was not in any danger… or that it was far less than I had at first feared, anyway."

Halladan stared at her in astonishment, nor was he the only one.

"You spoke to him, Pen-ii?" Aragorn sounded nearly as stunned as Halladan looked. "He was having a waking memory, his sword drawn and you _spoke_ to him?!"

"Pen-ii, do you have any idea how dangerous that might have been?" Elrond looked appalled.

"She sang to him just now!" Arvain seemed to think this proved the point he had been trying to make all along.

Elrond boggled at him.

"I sang to him simply because it was the first thing I could think of that would be out of keeping enough with whatever he might be seeing or remembering, Arvain. If he could react to your shout, could hear that, then perhaps he would hear the song…"

She trailed off, wondering if she sounded as foolish as she suspected she did. She did not catch the look exchanged by Aragorn and Gandalf that showed they did not find her reasoning foolish in the least.

"Is that also why you spoke to him on the Pelennor, Pen-ii?" Elrond asked. "Surely you should have known it would have been safer to let the vision run its course? I know you understand a little about these things."

"Perhaps. … If he had become quiet, withdrawn, lost in the memory, then I would have sat quietly and waited, even gone to stay with the horses as he had asked me to."

Glances were exchanged, each of them immediately realising, without Penny having said so, that she had therefore very probably also witnessed just such a moment with Halladan as well.

"And he was not like that?" Elrond looked to Arvain now. "On the Wall, did he say anything, seem animated?"

"Other than taking hold of Pen-ii's arm and then moving round in reaction to my shout, no, in truth."

Elrond nodded and looked back at Pen-ii.

"But he was far more animated that time on the Pelennor?"

Penny hesitated. She looked at Elrond, then at Halladan who had bowed his head once more, still leaning forward and now with his hands clasped in front of him, his elbows on his thighs.

"Pen-ii?"

Still she paused.

"Tell them," Halladan muttered, not even looking up at her. "If they need to know everything that happened, then tell them."

Tears came into her eyes.

"Is it not enough to know that it happened, to leave it at that?"

"Perhaps," said Elrond gently, "but given Halladan has already held back information from me that might have allowed us to help him more exactly before now… I fear, Pen-ii, and I am truly sorry, Halladan, but you must tell me everything about what occurred, if only so I, and the other healers amongst us here, can fully assess his condition."

Oh God.

She had not taken her eyes off Halladan all this time. He was still not looking at her.

"I am so sorry," she breathed.

He said nothing, just lifted his hands up to his head once more, as if bracing himself for whatever she was about to say. That she then also glanced at Arvain with an apologetic, worried expression also made Arvain look at her with some concern and alarm. She stared at her lap for a moment, summoning up her courage.

"As I said, it all happened very suddenly. One moment we were talking, then he was suddenly telling me to get to the horses and fast, and then…" She paused and looked up once more at Halladan, now not taking her eyes off him as she continued. "He… He was in battle. That much was obvious. He was looking round him at foes on every side, as if he were surrounded. _That_ was why he drew his sword. It was nothing to do with me – he could not even see me, had his back turned to me at first and was some yards away from me at that point. It was an instinct reaction to being in that situation."

"You did not think to run?" Arvain asked.

She hesitated before answering.

"I… was scared that if I ran that he might then notice me but… not recognise me." Her voice fell to something near to a whisper. "That he might mistake me for whatever foe he faced."

Arvain glanced at Aragorn, the two exchanging appalled, if sympathetic, looks.

"So he was moving, armed…" Elrond was clearly trying to stay in the role of objective healer making clear of the facts. "Was he talking?"

"Yes." She still did not take her eyes off Halladan. "Yes, he was shouting and roaring. I did not understand it all. Some of it might have been Westron but much of it, I suspect, was language not fit for female ears."

She gave a half-smile, trying to almost laugh and failing completely.

"What little could you make out?"

She shrugged.

"Insults. That he would fight them all, that they would never take him alive…" She trailed off.

Next to her Arvain's face showed his distress, his jaw tight as he listened to her.

"But what made you talk to him, Pen-ii?" Elrond insisted gently. "He was armed, clearly thinking himself in battle… You said just now you were terrified of running in case he mistook you for an orc or worse, so why bring his attention to your presence?"

It took her several moments to answer, fighting back the tears that threatened. Her reaction to the question more or less told them the answer even before she said it. Only now did she at last break her gaze on Halladan, letting it drop to the flagstones in front of her just before she spoke.

"He began screaming Hirvell's name."

The hands in Halladan's hair clenched, gripping his scalp hard, the knuckles whitening.

There was a muttered oath from Arvain beside her, words she did not understand and no one translated. Everyone else in the room looked stricken. Penny could not bring herself to look at Halladan. When she continued, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her, her voice shaking with emotion.

"I could not stand there and do nothing. I could _not_. I know it was probably the wrong thing to do, that it was incredibly dangerous, perhaps, and I was even telling myself that at the time, but I had to stop him, stop what was happening, I could not allow him to relive…" A tear spilled down her cheek and she wiped it away brusquely. She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I called his name. He heard me, turning towards me…"

"His sword still in his hand?"

It was Aragorn who asked. She looked up, hesitating before she realised she had to be honest. She nodded.

"Ai, Pen-ii," he breathed. "You have no idea how much danger you were in."

"Perhaps that was a good thing," she replied quickly. "Had I known, perhaps I would not have done it. Who can say if I helped him or not? I doubt I did, but it is possible I might have done. Whatever the case he certainly moved on from that particular memory."

Aragorn acknowledged the point with a nod of the head, and she continued.

"I want to make it absolutely clear that, though he had his sword in hand, raised, and, yes, I admit, pointing towards me," (the others winced as she said this, and Halladan's shoulders seemed to slump a little further), "he did not advance, did not threaten me. He seemed wary, unsure, that was all. As if waiting to see who I was, or perhaps dimly recognising me, I do not know… that is if he could even see me, which I doubt."

She looked round at them, desperate that they not think the worst and that she managed to make it clear that for all what had happened was serious, it was not as bad as might be thought at first.

"When I knew he could hear me, I just kept talking. I told him none of it was real, that whatever he could see or hear it was akin to a dream and nothing more. I reminded him where he was, that I was with him, asked him how could he hear me, how could I be with him if he were truly in the midst of battle? There were some birds singing nearby and I told him to listen to them, to put all his concentration into their song, asking how could he hear their song, how could they even be singing if he were in a battlefield? I have no idea if he could hear me or was listening to me, but as I talked he slowly lowered and then dropped his sword… and then it was over." She paused. "I doubt I pulled him out of it – I know these things pass of their own accord – but I could not stand there and do nothing. I was scared, barely even able to believe what I was doing, but all I could think of was that he was suffering." She paused once more as the tears threatened to overcome her. "It would have been inhuman, cruel not to try and help, however idiotic, however futile..." Her voice was cracking from the emotion and from holding back the tears.

Silence fell as everyone took this in and gave her time to recover her emotions.

"Now I can better understand your actions on the Wall, Pen-ii," Arvain murmured as he put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her sideways and hugging her to him a little, placing his chin on her head. When she pulled back from him after a little while or so she glanced up at him to find him smiling sadly at her, his eyes wet.

Then, as Gandalf shifted his weight, as if preparing to speak, and Elrond opened his mouth to say something, Halladan slowly sat upright, clearly struggling to keep himself composed.

He could not look at Penny at first.

"What you did was indeed foolish and dangerous," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "You know how badly injured Hiluin's wife was, and yet you even said to me that day that I was not yet another Hiluin."

"You were not. You _are_ not…" She stopped as he held up a hand to silence her.

"I am appalled at my actions, but thankful that the situation was not as bad as I had feared, though it was still far worse than you tried to let me believe."

"You were fortunate, Halladan," Elrond interjected gently, "that Pen-ii was someone who understood and was then prepared to force you to confront your illness."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking slightly.

Only then did he finally lift his head to look at her. He held his hand out to her, reaching past Gandalf who had stepped back a little. She took it, smiling sadly and a little awkwardly at him. She waited for him to say something more, but nothing came. He clearly wanted to, but either could not find the words, or else feared he might break down completely if he opened his mouth and tried to speak. The war of emotions going on within him was clear on his face for everyone to see.

"Really, I did nothing. I only did what anyone would have done."

Halladan held her hand for a moment longer and then slowly allowed his own to fall away from hers. Still he looked at her for some seconds more, something akin to gratitude visible in his eye.

"I would not say that, Pen-ii. As Lord Elrond has just said, you understood enough to know what you had witnessed was an indication of just how very ill he was. Which is why you would not let him be, I do not doubt."

"And there lies the difference between Pen-ii and I, Gandalf," Arvain said. "I did not want to risk my brother's wrath by referring to it without his doing so first. Pen-ii had more courage than I."

"Courage?" Penny seemed genuinely surprised by his use of the word. "No. It was more likely because I had only known Halladan a short time so it was easier as a stranger to be ruder and blunter to him, that was all."

There were soft chuckles at that, and even Halladan managed a smile.

"Well, I think you have proved you have more courage than you perhaps realised, Pen-ii, if you thought nothing of confronting an armed warrior who might not have recognised you when you spoke to him."

"I think that is the point, Lord Elrond: I did not think. Had I stopped to do so, I likely would not have done it."

"I could hear you, you know," Halladan said suddenly, his voice subdued. "I do remember that. Just the tail end of it and hearing your voice."

He looked at her once more and gave her a hesitant, rueful smile which she returned. Even as she did so, though, his face fell once more.

"Still to know that I acted so, and now again once more…" He shook his head. "I am more marred than I feared."

"Don't you dare, Halladan!"

The ferocity with which Penny spoke took them all by surprise.

"Pen-ii, I levelled a sword at you…"

"So did your father, and that, frankly, was far worse. His blade was this close to my neck." She held up finger and thumb, barely half an inch apart. "He had his reasons, of course, and I do not blame him in the least given what I had just said to him, but to be honest? I felt more terror that time with your father than I ever did with you either on the Pelennor or on the Wall. I honestly thought he was about to kill me then and there."

"It is hardly the same, Pen-ii…"

"Perhaps not, but don't you dare sit there and say things that if said about another would make you furious. You were just as appalled as I when Sidhwen declared Hiluin must have been weak in the head all along, and I will get just as angry with you if you say such things about yourself now."

"I thought you said I was not another Hiluin?"

Again that rueful smile and a slightly intense look.

"You are not. I am sure anyone here could tell you that…"

"You know you are not, Halladan," Aragorn said quietly. "Not yet, nor do I think you will take his path, indeed I know you will not since, unlike him, you have confronted and accepted your condition, as well as discussed it openly with others. That is the path to healing. And, it seems, you have Pen-ii to thank for it in large part."

Halladan nodded.

"I am eternally grateful to her."

Penny looked down at her hands, suddenly embarrassed.

"So," Arvain said, perhaps trying to break the mood a little. "What now?"

"Now? Now I know better what Halladan's condition is, the extent and depth of it, I can better aid him," Elrond replied. "Not only I, but Mithrandir also and Estel. If need be we have also have the skill of Lady Galadriel to call upon, indeed I feel sure she might insist upon helping if only because Halladan is so loved by one she loves dearly." He glanced at Aragorn as he said this and smiled. "However, more immediately we are nearing supper, and if you feel up to eating, Halladan, we shall join the company, otherwise we shall repair to my chambers and start straight away. I wish to do what I can this very night. I suspect it is in large part being in this place that has caused this. I have noticed a change in demeanour in many of the Dunedain whilst we have been here, and not all of it is due to the pipeweed running low."

Gandalf waved a hand at that, as if to say pipeweed was neither here nor there as far as he was concerned.

"I am fairly confident that once we are travelling once more things might ease a little," Elrond finished.

"Well then," Arvain replied, getting to his feet. "I for one am glad."

He stepped over to his brother and held out his hand. Halladan grasped him by the forearm even as he too stood up. The two looked at each other for a moment before Arvain pulled Halladan into an embrace, clapping him across the shoulders with his free arm.

"You will get well, Halladan. I know it. Indeed I have already seen a difference in you in recent days. Listen to Elrond, brother, and do everything he asks of you. You know if you need anything of me, you have only to ask."

"And I thank you for it, Arvain."

Penny felt it was perhaps time for her to leave them all to it, so she stood as well. As she did so she caught Aragorn's eye. He smiled at her and nodded approvingly.

"I should perhaps..." she muttered, gesturing vaguely at the door behind her.

Arvain moved to one side, allowing space for Halladan to step towards her. His face seemed far softer than it had since they had entered the antechamber. Penny could not help but smile a little at him.

"I am so sorry you have had to go through all this, Halladan. It must have been dreadful to hear it, but it is over now, and now you can begin to heal."

He nodded, finding it hard to look at her suddenly, his gaze flicking to the floor, to her shoulder, to Aragorn's boots and back.

"And to have had it forced on you like this, in company… Well, I cannot say I truly understand, perhaps, but I can sympathise and apologise for my part in any discomfort you have felt."

"In truth, Pen-ii, it is hardest for me to know that you have been a witness to such things." He looked her in the eye then. "It is hard for me to bear to know that I put you in danger, but to confess such things to those here, those who have long known me and have known others affected as I am… well, that was not nearly as humiliating for me as knowing you have seen me at my weakest, at my most shameful… "

"Halladan…"

"No, Arvain," Penny glanced at him, holding up a hand, "no, Halladan has always shown himself to me to be a man who speaks plainly."

In spite of her words she was having difficulty keeping herself together in that moment. What Halladan had said had hurt her and that was plain to everyone there judging from her reaction.

"I only meant to explain my anger, my obstinacy…"

"I know. And you are right. Of course you are. How could it be otherwise? I am your ward and I am a woman, not some fellow soldier used to the ways of warriors. Of course it must seem humiliating to you to have had me witness what I did. I understood that even as it was happening, even as you exploded at me afterwards and then rode off leaving me to chase after you. It was why I was so determined that I would say my piece, even if it meant you would never speak to me again, and I knew that was a very real risk, Halladan. Make no mistake I understood full well how angry I might make you by speaking so plainly to you that day, but I felt I had to."

She paused, looked down for a moment and went to rest a hand on his arm, but as she did so he reached out and took her hand in his own. She looked up at him.

"I am truly sorry that you had to have me present on such occasions. Truly. I have done my best to refrain from referring to what happened on the Pelennor directly, to make you uncomfortable, but at the same time I knew it was serious, Halladan, as I told you both then and since then, and as such I could not in all conscience remain silent. I cannot say I am sorry today has happened. I am glad they know. They should have been told a long time ago. They, not I, were the ones who should have been there perhaps, but consider: if I had not been there, if you had been alone, would you have even now admitted to yourself let alone to anyone else that you were even unwell?"

Halladan was nodding slightly. Penny squeezed his hand.

"I shall go. Forgive me, Halladan, for anything I have done or said to ever make you ill at ease. You know I would never willingly do anything to cause you pain."

"Nothing to forgive. Rather it is I…"

"No, no. Not then, not now, not ever."

He squeezed her hand then, and smiled slightly. She returned his smile, then let go of his hand and turned to leave, looking round at the others by way of farewell as she did so with nods in the direction of Elrond and Aragorn in particular.

"Forgive me, Arvain, for getting angry."

"No, I should apologise, Pen-ii."

He hugged her, holding her tight, pressing his cheek against hers. As he did so she heard him whisper a very quiet 'may Eru reward you' into her ear. As they pulled apart he was smiling broadly at her.

At the door, she heard her name and found Elrond behind her, following her out into the corridor. As they left he said in a low voice that he was grateful that she had been so frank, even if it had been hard to say let alone to do so in front of Halladan. He had always suspected much of what she had had to relate, but it helped him enormously to have it confirmed. It also helped, he told her quietly, for Halladan to know both what had happened, but also that others such as himself, Aragorn and Gandalf, thought it as serious an episode as Penny had guessed it might be and agree that she had been right to push him to seek help.

"And, yes, you were both brave and foolish in what you did, Pen-ii, but I think you might well have helped him more than you think. Even if you did not help the vision to end more quickly, you certainly stopped the memory of his brother's death and the torment that was causing him at that moment." He smiled and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You did well both then and today."

Her smile shone with pride. Words failed her.

"Go and get something to eat. I know you have found it hard to be here yourself, but we leave on the morrow. Things will seem a little brighter then, I feel sure of it."

He smiled at her kindly and Penny turned to leave, though not before thanking Legolas for having taken her round Helm's Deep.

"Not at all, Pen-ii. I am only sorry our walk ended in the manner in which it did."

"In truth, I cannot say I am, Legolas. This way, at least, Halladan has been forced to admit that which he was trying to cope with alone. Those who can best help him now can do their work and he will heal, and heal that much faster as a consequence."

Legolas nodded in agreement, smiling slightly at her truthful assessment of the situation. She bade farewell to Celeborn, who inclined his head graciously in return, and then headed off to find her way through the maze of corridors back to her room.

Halladan did not appear at supper. Nor did Elrond or Aragorn. Arvain did, however, and made a point of squeezing himself next to Penny when he arrived, smiling warmly at her as he did so. He also bit Rhimlath's head off for her when he let slip that the bathing rooms that they had used earlier in the day, being in the lowest parts of the Burg, naturally cool and with a floor surface designed to deal with wet, had been used to store some of the dead after the battle until burial.

Penny had stopped eating at that point, understandably enough, and even Lindir had scowled at Rhimlath pointedly till Rhimlath had sighed and apologised to Penny for 'forgetting mortal sensibilities about such matters.'

He had meant it sincerely, though, which was something, and even tried to make up for it by asking Penny for detailed descriptions of the Glittering Caves though Penny knew full well he could have done without hearing about any of it.

It was another warm night that night and, after everything else that she had been through that day, it was not surprising that once more Penny's sleep was filled with dreams.

Some time before dawn she awoke in a cold sweat and could not sleep again, indeed part of her brain refused to allow her to try in fear she might fall back into the same nightmare. Instead she dressed and wandered out into the courtyard and thence onto the Wall where she watched the dawn slowly rise over the valley below, but still her thoughts kept returning back to her dream.

She had dreamt of Helm's Deep. Not only that but she had dreamt of the battle itself. Worse still she had dreamt her family were there with her.

She had been standing on the Wall, looking out towards the Dike, and somehow she could actually see over the Dike rampart, could see a great swarm of blackness heaving and writhing as it raced towards them. She was dimly aware of Aragorn nearby, as well as Legolas, but also all the Dunedain, and very possibly a few elves as well. Indeed she had been holding Arvain's hand at one point in her terror.

But then she had heard a shout and looked over the parapet (suddenly the Wall's parapet was a mere few feet high) to see her mother and brother below on the greensward, screaming to be let up and with the orcish hordes rampaging up behind them. The Wall itself too had shrunk in height because many were leaning over the parapet, reaching out to them to try and pull them up, but their reach was not long enough or they could not get good purchase on their hands. Everyone around her was shouting and screaming, both to prepare themselves for the onslaught as the Uruk and Dunlendings, roaring in battle fury, came pouring through the Dike's breach, but also in desperation to save Penny's mother and brother. She was shouting out to them and also to anyone near her, begging that they help them, but even as finally they managed to start to haul themselves up the Wall, the Uruks fell upon them, surrounded them, pulling them back down. She watched as her mother disappeared, screaming, buried in a sea of vile, twisted faces.

Then beside her she had heard sobbing and turned to find her brother had made it, had indeed been pulled up in time, but had been caught by orcish blades on the way. His clothes were red with blood, his face pale. He was already dead.

And it was Halladan who was holding him, cradling him to his chest as if he were a child, his face twisted in anguish as he howled.


	48. Follow The Yellow Brick Road

**Chapter 48** – _"Follow The Yellow Brick Road"_

Even as Penny had watched the dawn rise, elvish voices had begun to sing, sporadically at first and dotted far and wide both in the deep and on the greensward, but fairly soon becoming one communal, choral effort.

The song seemed strangely indistinct, or at least it did to Penny. If she tried to make out the words they swirled away from her as if she were trying to catch hold of wisps of smoke. As more and more voices joined in, each time adding another meandering ribbon of a tune to the whole, Penny gave up trying to make any of it out and just let it wash over her. It rose to something like a crescendo even as the sky at last turned from a glowing pink and orange to a bright, clear blue above the eastern peaks.

It was going to be another gloriously sunny day by the look of it.

The song had not been for her, or anyone else listening particularly. Penny did not know why she knew that, only that she was certain of it. It had been for Helm's Deep, to cleanse it and clear it of whatever shadow still lay upon it, just as when the elves had wandered, murmuring and singing amongst the burnt-out shells of cottages and farmsteads in the Westfold Vale.

It did have some effect on her nonetheless. Her dream was still vivid in her mind, but she did not feel such a cold, heavy weight within her because of it. Its grip on her imagination was that much less and thus that much easier to bear. The coming of the dawn had helped a little also. She turned at last, thinking breakfast must have started and if she did not want to journey half a day with an empty stomach she had best get moving.

It was no surprise, perhaps, that as Penny took one look down onto the greensward before she made her way up the stairs into the Burg, she could make out the bright golden hair of Galadriel, her voice chief amongst the singers.

It was immediately clear as she entered the dining hall that it was later than she had realised. Of course she had forgotten that, it being a day of travel and thus with much preparation needed before the 'off', most would have risen early. Thus many had already eaten and left. Plates were already being cleared and whole sections of many of the tables were entirely empty. As she took this in she heard her name being called, and Penny could see Arvain beckoning her over to join them. Faelon was next to him, already standing and about to leave, and Halladan was seated opposite him. She took a seat next to Halladan and murmured a good morning to them all.

"Your bed too comfortable this morning, Pen-ii?" Faelon joked, grinning at her.

"Hardly." She helped herself to an apple as Arvain cut her a hunk of bread. "Though I will admit, even those wretched cots are better than sleeping on nothing but a bedroll."

The men chuckled at that. After all sleeping on 'nothing but a bedroll' (or less) was standard fare for a Dunadan in the wild.

"I shall be so glad to get to Imladris and have a proper bed once more."

She smiled, trying her best to seem relatively normal and perfectly at ease to match Faelon's attitude. Faelon then excused himself saying there was much to be done before they could set off and also pointing out that Penny had little time to eat before she would have to do the same. She nodded, even as she spread some honey on her bread.

"I will take the apple back up to my rooms with me while I get my things packed."

Faelon seemed surprised.

"Your bags are not yet prepared?"

"Well, I…"

"She has time, Faelon." Halladan said quietly, not looking up as he spoke.

"We will hardly leave without her," Arvain pointed out with a laugh. "And besides, it will take an age for all the horses to make their way down from the burg…"

"They have already started," Faelon said. "Many of the elves have already taken their horses from the caves." He looked at Penny, smiling. "Just so long as you do not take too long here. Mireth was asking if we had seen you earlier; I think she was worried you might be running late."

He asked no questions, presumed she had her reasons for having disappeared, and for that Penny was grateful. She nodded, making it clear she understood, and he left them to it.

"So, where were you?"

She looked at Arvain. No one was near them, the hall emptying fast, so she could speak fairly freely.

"On the Wall. I have been there since before dawn. I lost track of the time, that was all."

She avoided their gaze and munched on her bread.

Halladan spoke before Arvain could draw in breath to do so.

"Bad dreams again?"

She paused mid-chew, then, still not looking at them, slowly swallowed and nodded. Halladan nodded in return as he ate his last mouthful. Penny glanced up to see Arvain looking at her with some concern. As he opened his mouth to say something, Penny cut him off.

"I am fine. Really. We are leaving today and that will be an end to it."

Arvain raised his eyebrows and exchanged a look with his brother who had glanced sideways at Penny.

"Are you not looking forward to leaving also?" Penny asked Arvain, not looking up as she continued eating. "I know it has not been easy for you here either."

Arvain's only answer was to shrug in a non-committal sort of way, then he got to his feet.

"Right, well, I am finished. Halladan, do you want me to take your pack and saddle to the courtyard?"

"No need, I am finished here also." Halladan paused as he looked at Penny. "Wait one moment, brother. Let Pen-ii finish and we can walk together towards our chambers."

Arvain sat down again, though without tucking his legs under the table so he was sideways on to it.

"Yes, of course." He paused. "Hurry up, Pen-ii!" He grinned.

"Hey!"

Arvain laughed.

As they wandered down the first few corridors together before separating to go their respective chambers, Penny gently asked Halladan if he was feeling any better. He glanced across her to his brother before answering.

"It… will take time," he said quietly.

"But Elrond…"

"Stayed with me most of the night. King Elessar also." He seemed to be finding it a little difficult to look her fully in the eye.

"Faelon's been told," Arvain interrupted, saving his brother from having to say anything further.

Penny nodded. "Good. I am glad. He is so close to you and was close to your father. It is only right that he know, that he be amongst those to help you."

Halladan said nothing and Penny could see he found it uncomfortable being so open about all this. She decided to leave it at that, thought about laying a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort and understanding but decided against it.

"And you?" Halladan was trying to change the subject. "You have not slept well both nights you were here."

The memory of it welled up within her.

"I dreamt about my family last night. I was here, at the battle… They were here also. They… died."

She did not know why she was telling them. Perhaps it was simply that she felt she had to tell _someone_, to get it out, that by saying it out loud she could exorcise it on some level.

They had stopped walking. Arvain and Halladan had looked at each other as she had spoken.

"Ai, Pen-ii," Arvain said quietly. "It shall be no bad thing for us to leave here, I feel. I did not realise you had been so deeply affected by it."

Penny shrugged and might have said something further, but they were interrupted by the arrival of a few elves who were smiling and laughing, telling them that horses were filling the courtyard, Arvain and Halladan's amongst them, and they had better get a move on.

They went their separate ways to fetch their things.

The whole process of bringing the horses from the caves to the Burg to be saddled and loaded did indeed take quite some time, just as Arvain had said it would. Slowly people made their way down the causeway as they and their horses were ready and, little by little, a great crowd formed on the greensward. The sun was already high in the sky when the very last of them finally left the Burg, and only then did the vanguard move forward towards the Dike.

As it did so, Pen-ii, riding in amongst many of the Dunedain as she was, was right next to Halladan when Faelon unfastened the horn he always wore on his belt and held it out to Halladan. Halladan hesitated for a moment before slowly accepting it from him, and took several moments more, simply looking at it in his hand, before taking a deep breath through his nose, as if making a decision and steeling himself to it, then pressing the horn to his lips and blowing, just once but long and loud.

He was immediately answered by several horns up on the Wall and on the rampart, and someone somewhere was blowing the Horn of Helm since a sudden great booming trumpeting, deep and resonant, could be heard loud and harsh, rumbling off the cliffs in the Deep to come again and again like thunder. The sound was so loud, indeed, that Penny was not the only one to turn in her seat to stare behind her in wonder at the Wall.

A tribute, no doubt, to those amongst them, Aragorn and Gandalf in particular, for all that they had done in the defence of Rohan.

As Halladan then attached the horn to his own belt rather than giving it back to Faelon, Arvain saw Penny watching him closely.

"It was Father's," he began to explain.

"Yes, I know. I had forgotten till just now, but it was said he blew a horn as you left here on your way to the Paths of the Dead, no?"

Arvain nodded.

"Yes. Yes, he did. By rights Halladan should have had it all this time. We considered…" he hesitated, "…burying it with him, but Faelon said that would not do, that it had been passed down through many generations of our family, that Father would have wanted us to have it, that as close kin to Aragorn it was only right that…"

Halladan now looked up, overhearing the tail end of what Arvain was saying.

He caught Penny's eye as he did so.

"As the eldest son, it is my duty to wear it," he said quietly. "I could not bring myself to wear it before. It might seem strange to you, perhaps, but to have such a constant reminder of him with me was…"

"Oh, it is understandable enough, Halladan," Faelon interrupted, his voice kindly. "But it is only right, only fitting that once again its note be heard in this place where it was last heard outside of the roar of battle, and it is to the eldest son that such a duty should fall. He was our standard bearer, the one to whom we rallied for our King. It is only right it should be his eldest son who honours him and honours this place where so many fell."

He smiled, if a little grimly, at Halladan and nodded gently, showing his pride and pleasure that Halladan had accepted the horn from him and blown it. The unspoken look in his eye said 'Halbarad would have been proud to see it.'

The four fell into silence as they followed the train down the path into the narrow valley below the rampart and so on down the foothills towards the Westfold Vale.

It was a strange day's journey as far as Penny was concerned, though she did wonder if she was the only one who felt that way. Helm's Deep had been such an intense experience for her, coming on top of the deep sense of grief she had felt the few days prior, that finally to be free of it was, indeed, a relief. To be on the road once more, surrounded by elvish song, was exactly the thing she had been yearning for since the moment they had stopped.

And yet…

She still felt the shadow of all she had been through lying on her. For all she was pleased to leave Helm's Deep at last, she was quiet and introspective as they travelled. She could not shake her dream from her mind and could summon up little more than quiet murmured responses to any attempt at conversation that came her way.

Halladan too seemed quiet, but that was nothing unusual. The Dunedain were not the chatty sort, and after the previous day's events Halladan had every excuse to keep himself to himself. Arvain and Faelon rode beside him all the day, though, providing a familiar, companionable support if needed.

Throughout the day various friends joined them to ride alongside them. The elves seemed to be slowly returning to their usual selves so, even if they were still much muted in their general character, were far more inclined to be sociable than any time previously since they had left Edoras.

Thus Lindir spent a good part of the morning journeying with them, though whether he was making the effort for Penny or Halladan (or both) it was hard to say. Either way he had them all laughing within a quarter of an hour of his turning up alongside them.

About an hour after leaving Helm's Deep behind them Erestor rode back along the line to join them.

"Ah, Pen-ii. A little Westron, perhaps?"

Lindir nearly fell off his horse when Penny responded enthusiastically to this suggestion.

"I never thought I would live to see the day!" He turned to look at her. "Are you sickening for something?"

Penny stuck her tongue out at him. The Dunedain nearby were smiling and chuckling.

"And how did you find the poems?" Erestor asked as Penny fell back a little from the others and he came alongside her.

"Perfect. Exactly what I needed. Thank you, Erestor."

She then went on to discuss the few she had particularly liked, Erestor nodding and smiling in approval as she did so.

So up until lunchtime, Penny had a Westron lesson with Erestor. She was grateful that it was, in large part, merely a revision of what they had done the day before given that the lesson was being listened to by half a dozen Dunedain. If she had been forced to make a complete arse of herself and show her utter incompetence as a linguist in a language they had all known from birth, she would have felt horribly humiliated, even though she knew full well that they would not have seen it in those terms in the least – after all they knew well enough she could speak little Westron.

It all helped the morning pass comfortably enough.

Every time, however, the distractions passed and she had an opportunity to be left to her own thoughts, the gloom returned, like a fog momentarily pushed aside by a breeze only to roll back in on itself. She ate her meagre lunch in near total silence, lost in her own world once more.

For the afternoon she offered her horse to one of the ellith who usually shared her tent, and walked alongside Mireth, letting her try and teach her a song about a small pink flower native to the north whose appearance heralded the start of summer. In the end Mireth could see Penny was really not in the right frame of mind and they wandered along in companionable silence, listening to others singing around them.

As ever, progress was slow with this large a group travelling all together, many of them on foot and they had started out later than, perhaps, might have been hoped. It was already well into the afternoon when they came out of the mountain valley at last and reached the fork in the road, taking the westward route towards the fords. They did not go much further into the Westfold Vale when the decision was made to set up camp for the evening.

The end of the diversion of singing and the slowly changing scenery meant for a moment Penny felt that same cold weariness within her once more. There was little she could do to help with setting up the camp, given it necessitated heavy manual work for the most part, but the moment the central area amongst the elvish tents was established and Naurdir had all his bags of provisions and foodstuffs to one side, she offered to help prepare the main meal with him as something to keep her busy.

Peeling root vegetables did not stop her mind from wandering, however.

And it was not as if she was thinking about anything in particular. In fact, often enough she was not thinking about anything at all, but it was still enough that Naurdir had to say her name three times before she looked up and agreed that, yes, she probably had done enough carrots.

"Ah, there you are."

It was Arvain who had called out to her, strolling towards her with Halladan and their cousin, Tadion, beside him. Tadion plonked himself down on the grass beside her with a wide grin, his long legs stretched out, his ankles crossed.

"Elbereth, but that tent was difficult to get up this evening."

"Well, if you will insist on pulling when you should be pushing and hauling when you should be staying," Halladan muttered.

"That's our Tadion," Arvain laughed. "Ever contrary."

"Not my fault if Faelon had us doing it opposite to the way we usually go about it," Tadion grumbled as he grabbed a peeled carrot and bit into it.

The other two men made disparaging noises that let him know they thought that arrant (and laughable) nonsense.

"Not that we need a tent on a night like this," he continued, ignoring the pair of them as he looked up to the east where the cloudless sky on the far horizon was beginning to darken slightly. "It will stay dry tonight."

He reached for a second carrot, only for Penny to slap his hand away as she got up to take them over to Naurdir.

"Stop that!"

Tadion affected shocked disbelief for a brief moment and then broke into a grin as a pseudo-wistful expression came onto his face.

"Ah, how I have missed Mother Dearest." He sighed heavily. "We have been so long away from home it seems."

Arvain burst out laughing at that, and even Halladan chuckled and grinned widely. Penny tried to work out if she should be offended or not and decided 'not' in the end. She lobbed a carrot at Tadion's head instead.

"Ha! Pen-ii has the measure of you already, Tadion!" Arvain hooted.

Tadion had caught the carrot neatly and was munching on it happily, grinning away like a cheeky schoolboy.

As Penny, at Naurdir's direction, sliced the carrots straight into the large pot, another ellon standing on its opposite side slicing in various other vegetables as well as ripping up several bunches of wild herbs that had been gathered from nearby, she glanced back to the trio sitting in the fire's glow.

Halladan was listening, head bowed and picking idly at blades of grass in front of him with a soft smile on his face, as Arvain and Tadion threw banter and jibes back and forth at each other. Lindir and Celebdor had joined them and, even as she watched, Faelon seated himself quietly next to Halladan, murmuring a greeting to him.

Celebdor and Lindir were clearly trying to outbid Arvain and Tadion in the jibes since she could just hear Lindir interrupting Arvain to loudly declare that 'that was as nothing compared to the time Celebdor had faced down a badger with his bare hands,' only for Celebdor to quickly interrupt that 'he was sure this tale had been told a thousand times before and really did it need to be told once more?'

Penny smiled to herself. Distractions like this were really quite pleasant. It helped to pass the time, to divert the thoughts, even if it could not absolutely clear the weight inside. She could see from the expression on Halladan's face, the quiet stillness about him, the way he was listening and smiling but still somewhat removed from it all – an observer rather than a participator – that he felt much the same.

She left for her tent as the meal cooked, to freshen up but also because as much as the laughter was an amusing diversion it seemed strangely at odds with how she felt now that dusk was slowly settling in. It was just as pleasant to be able to wander, alone, amongst the tents once more, the gentle whinnying of horses in the distance, the muffled murmur of conversation around her, and everyone about their business before the light finally faded completely. It was wonderful to be back in this now strangely familiar atmosphere – it had been months, after all, since she first set out from Imladris – and to know she was far from those dark, gloomy battlements up in the mountains somewhere.

It occurred to her she was avoiding the jollity and chatter much as Halladan had always done.

The irony of it was not lost on her either.

She returned for supper, sitting with her friends but not saying much, happy to listen as Lindir embarrassed Celebdor by relating in glorious detail the number, shape and size of bites he had received on his buttocks from said badger and how he had then had to suffer the indignity of having to drop his leggings for Mireth who was his senior by a little over a century (and thus had always been the grown elleth that even his young heart had yearned for), but had also been the first healer he had had the misfortune to run into, howling his way back to Imladris, clutching his backside like his life depended on it.

"I swear by Elbereth herself that was the start of it all between them."

"If you do not stay quiet, Lindir, I swear by all I hold dear that I will choke you where you sit."

Lindir was laughing hard.

"Ah, young love. Brought to flower by the bite of a badger!"

He ducked the blow levelled at his head by Celebdor but was caught instead by one in the other direction that came from Mireth.

"Hey! Not fair!"

"He was only young, Lindir! Do not mock him so! You would have fared no better had you been in that situation!"

"True, true," Lindir admittedly graciously. He grinned wickedly suddenly. "Not that young, Mireth, only a few years shy of his majority…"

"Took them long enough, then, to profess their love for each other if that was the start of it all as you suggest," Arvain pointed out.

"Would you rush into matters if you all you had to go on was the sight of a pair of buttocks bitten to shreds?! OW! Mireth, stop that!"

"I suggest you hold your tongue, dear friend, lest I let slip various stories I know about you."

"Psh, Celebdor, I make no apologies. All here know I play the fool and thus the stories are never ending."

"Ah, no, but I mean of a certain lovesick young ellon who climbed a tree once upon a time…"

Lindir gasped, suddenly close to outrage. "Don't you dare!"

"And why should I not? After all you have said this night?!"

"I was jesting about it being the start of your love, but that night I was in earnest as you well know!"

"And who is to say I did not love fair Mireth even then?" Celebdor said with some feeling.

Mireth dropped her gaze, flushing gently in shyness suddenly. She glanced sideways and caught Penny's eye. The pair grinned.

"Who is to say my mortification was not compounded a hundredfold precisely because of that fact?!"

"In which case I apologise unreservedly, my old friend," Lindir quickly returned with a warm and genuine smile. "You know I meant nothing by it."

The conversation moved on and then, as the meal finished, a song started up nearby followed by the start of a lengthy tale. It was the usual post-dinner entertainment. As the laughter around her died, Penny felt she needed more time alone. She murmured her excuses and headed off, but even as she left the circle of the firelight's glow, she heard her name and sensed someone come alongside her.

It was Halladan.

"Had enough of the company?" She had no chance to reply before he continued. "It is pleasant enough, but…"

"…sometimes the quiet and the solitude are all you wish for," she finished.

He nodded.

"Exactly so." He looked at her. "You have been quiet today."

"I could say the same of you."

He nodded once more.

"True." He glanced up ahead of them. "Where are we headed?"

She shrugged.

"I had no particular idea in mind. I thought only to seek the edge of the camp, to sit for a while and look at the stars, let my thoughts wander a little without worrying what others might think of me." She paused, suddenly worried that she had phrased herself badly.

"I understand."

And she knew he did.

They walked on in silence till they reached the last of the tents, then stepped only a few feet beyond them before stopping. Penny hugged her arms about her, staring up into the clear sky above her. She could still not get used to being able to see so many stars so clearly with the naked eye without London's light pollution to obscure them. Halladan stood beside her silently, leaning on his stick, though as much from force of habit as from his leg being a little stiff from a long day in the saddle.

"I am surprised you came to join me," Penny said quietly at last.

"And why should I not?"

"Well… after yesterday I thought perhaps that…"

"I said to you some days ago I would keep you company at such times." He paused and added kindly, "If, however, I have intruded and you would prefer to be alone…"

"No, no, I am grateful to you. I… I was concerned only that you might not feel comfortable… that yesterday might have meant that…"

"Pen-ii," and he touched her arm gently as he said her name, turning her to face him, "I am deeply ashamed of what you have had to witness, but Elrond and the others spoke to me long into the night last night. I… I cannot say I have accepted what happened yesterday, but I recognise that it will, in the end, perhaps be something I will look back on one day and realise was a major step in my healing. Or that is what they tell me, anyway, and Arvain and Faelon agree with them. Who am I to argue with the likes of my King or Mithrandir himself, after all? Whatever my feelings now, do not ever think that they will stand in the way of my duty towards you or, indeed, our friendship." He smiled. "I made a promise and I will stand by that." The smile broadened a little. "Besides, do you not think that perhaps it helps me a little to be able to worry about you instead of myself?"

She almost laughed at that and nodded. Fair enough. She glanced up at him, smiling, but the moment she caught his eye and found he was still smiling back at her she looked away quickly, feeling oddly shy, her smile broadening in spite of itself as she did so.

"Shall we sit?" he said, doing exactly that and holding out his hand for her to follow him.

She took it and sat beside him, feeling strangely foolish and rather conscious of his presence beside her, which unnerved her. Then she wondered what her mother would have made of him and his brother and she was off, lost in her own thoughts once more.

How long they sat there she was not sure, but it was not overly long before Halladan broke the silence.

"Tell me about your family."

She looked at him.

"Lord Elrond was rather particular about this, that when I felt able to I should… that remembering the dead, or those lost to us, is a means of coming to accept their having gone."

He sounded strained, as if the idea of doing exactly that was one he would rather not think about at this moment or else he had just now been lost in thoughts that were best no longer dwelt upon.

She caught his eye, and guessed it might be a mixture of both.

"I would fain hear of them, and it might help you a little. That, and…" he paused, his gaze flicking away from her and out into the dark, "if I am to be honest it would help me a little to divert my attention onto something else for a while."

That was all the incentive she needed.

So she began to talk. Hesitantly at first, unsure of what to say and also worried at the grief it might stir up within her, but once she had started it just flowed out of her.

She told him about her mother, how close they had been and yet how much she had been driven to distraction by her, how her mother pestered her constantly and always insisted she be the example that her brother look up to (not that he had taken the blindest bit of notice, needless to say), how she had escaped at the earliest opportunity to make her own way, grateful for the opportunity university and then employment had given her to get her own little place at last. She had done the best she could at her studies, been a fairly dutiful and obedient child, independent but not pushing her mother's patience, especially not when she saw her mother had her hands full with her brother who was both wilful and spoilt (and took advantage of both those facts to do what he liked when he liked and how he liked - hang the consequences - and yet still managed to remain the apple of his mother's eye).

She spoke of family gatherings, of how much she had got on with her mother's two brothers, though she only saw them a few times a year. She spoke of her grandfather, her mother's father, and how she had spent quite a bit of time with him (and her grandmother before she died) when she was growing up, spending most afternoons after school at their house while waiting for her mother to get home from work. She spoke of cousins who were brats, and aunts who wore too much perfume, of friends she had had since childhood and newer friends she had made at university who had been stalwart supports as she had fended off her mother's suffocating fussing and shaken their heads with her over her dissolute brother.

Her brother.

She spoke most about him, and suddenly the flood took on something close to rage in her grief as she talked about how much of an irritant he had been all her life, how she had gone out of her way on many occasions to bridge the gap between them only for him to laugh in her face, indeed to go out of his way to drive her insane with fury.

There had been his infamous nineteenth birthday party when he had gone out with friends and then not been seen for two days, worrying their mother sick (something that, in itself, she had found it almost impossible to forgive him for), only for it to turn out he had been arrested by the police for public disorder and affray (having picked a fight with a couple of bouncers after he was thrown out of a club when two blokes understandably objected to his trying to cop off with their girlfriends) as well as public indecency (peeing in the street).

There was the time his mother had found out he had been bunking off school to go drinking and who knew what with mates or the time she had admitted to Penny, a year or so after the event, that he had, for a while, been taking money from her purse (and when Penny had exploded at him about it he had just grinned and shrugged and refused to believe she had never done the same). There was the way he never lifted a finger to help, never offered to put any of the money he earned from his Saturday job (and the part-time work he had in a bar once he got older) towards the bills but still expected to eat his mother out of house and home, to have her do his laundry and be at his beck and call...

She could have gone on and on.

She only did not mention the time he had take their mother's car (without asking and without a valid licence) only to wrap it round a tree, because that would have necessitated explaining what a car was and she was on too much of a roll to stop and try and explain such bizarreness (as it would no doubt seem to Halladan) as metal boxes on wheels and the internal combustion engine.

Brief flickers of what could have been between herself and her brother were rare events, but they did exist, she admitted, though not since he had hit puberty when he became all the more uncommunicative, dismissive and full of himself. Like the time their mother's mother, the woman they spent so many afternoons with while their mother earned her daily crust, had died from cancer, and for a brief moment she had seen her kid brother utterly distraught instead of his usual arrogant, annoying self. He had only been about twelve, and she had tried to speak words of comfort to him, and he had held her hand all the way through the funeral service.

Then two days later he had filled her bed with slugs (for no good reason she could discern other than the fact that he seemed to find her hysterically funny when she was furious and screaming at him), and life was back to normal.

"And you know what I hate most?"

Slow, silent tears rolled down her cheeks in spite of herself, which felt strangely incongruous given the invective she was heaping on her brother's head much of the time, but then she was speaking also of their mother, of their family, and of her memories and her regrets.

"I hate most the fact that I really miss him. I hate that he can drive me mad even now, even when I have lost him forever. I hate him so much for making me feel like this. I hate that I will never be able to be close to him now, that he completely denied us that opportunity, that now we will never have that proper sibling relationship that once I really thought we ought to have and which I know Mother was always desperate for, indeed I honestly believe she thought it existed, or pretended it did at any rate, tried to convince herself it did. How can I miss him so much when he used to drive me crazy?! How is it possible?! I hated the little," (she had no word for what she wanted to say in Sindarin and so used the English), "bastard! Argh, he was insufferable, and yet here I am a complete mess because he is as good as dead to me!"

The tears overwhelmed her at that point as she said those words out loud and, as she hung her head, one hand coming up to cover her face, aware she was a minor emotional disaster right now, Halladan reached out to wrap an arm about her shoulder and pull her into his chest. He said nothing, just held her, one-armed, for quite some time till the storm had passed.

"I am sorry," she mumbled at last into his tunic, pulling away from him a little to wipe her cheeks. "I am sorry, Halladan. I did not mean to…"

"Do not apologise. You loved them and they are gone. That would be hard for anyone, Pen-ii. I of all people can understand your sense of loss. And to have lost so many and so much… Even your brother, for all you were never close, was someone you loved and cared for. If not, then why would his behaviour, and in particular his behaviour towards you, his rejection of your attempts to be close to him, anger and hurt you so? I am not sure he was worthy of your affection, if what you say of him is true, and I do not doubt your word, but it speaks much of your character that you were so affected by him nonetheless. You only wanted to be a family, to have a family, to be a sister to him for your mother's sake."

He was still holding her to him and she looked up into his face.

He smiled.

She falteringly smiled back and noticed how his grey eyes seemed to reflect the starlight.

Then he was removing his arm from round her shoulders and turning to look out towards the night once more.

"Tell me, what does 'bahr-sted' mean?"

She hesitated, a faltering 'erm' falling out of her mouth as she wondered whether to lie or not.

"Would I be correct in assuming it is a word that Erestor would have my hide for if ever I taught you the Westron equivalent?"

Penny caught him giving her a sideways grin and could not help but laugh in spite of her tears.

Halladan nodded, still grinning.

"Ah. I thought as much."

"It means someone who is born out of wedlock. I do not know if that is an insult or a 'bad word' in…"

"Oh, it is, Pen-ii. Yes, indeed." He paused. "He was not, was he?"

"No. No, no. My parents were married… for all the good that did," she added ruefully.

They fell into silence once more, each lost in their own thoughts for a while.

"I know we can never replace them, Pen-ii, but I do hope that one day you will think of Arvain and myself as something akin to family. It is what my father wanted. As guardians, we…"

"I have already begun to, Halladan."

And it was true. Not brothers, exactly, not yet anyway, but perhaps something like the brothers she would have always wanted. Cousins, certainly, though; long distant, only-just-met cousins, if not much closer than that already.

"I… I felt drawn to you both for his sake from the first and you have both shown me such kindness, such warmth and tender concern, that I could not but think warmly of you both in return."

He was smiling softly.

"Good. I am glad." He hauled himself to his feet, only bending to pick up his stick once he was upright (which spoke volumes in itself). "Come. We had best get back."

He held out his hand, helping her up, and they walked back towards the tents.

"Do you think you would ever talk about…? I mean, I would love to hear more about your lives before the War. I feel shy to ask, or even mention them in your presence, though."

"Do not feel that way. I understand why, and I thank you for your discretion, but there is no need." He glanced at her as they made their way between two tents to the main path through the camp. "You are family, Pen-ii. You have also… well, how shall I put it? You have been privy, shall we say, to moments I would fain not have had you witness nor be a part of. The clear concern Father had for your welfare would be enough, I suspect, for you to have earned to right to learn more about his family. Only… do not expect me to be able to discuss them freely and easily for some time. Mentions, perhaps, and to listen to the remembrances of others. With time, of course, it will be easier. So I am told."

They were drawing near to the elvish fire, and the light from the occasional lantern within tents on either side of them spilled out through open tent flaps here and there so giving a fair bit of illumination at points once your eye was accustomed to the gloom.

Before they got too close to the company, indeed were still some way back amongst the tents, Halladan gently laid his hand on Penny's arm, staying her. She stopped, looking up at him questioningly.

"There is one thing I must know, Pen-ii. May I?"

As he spoke he reached across her to her right arm, the one he had held so tightly on the Wall. She hesitated for a moment, not quite sure he meant what she thought he meant, but realising in the same instant he could only mean precisely that. She made to move her arm away from his reach, but an instant too late: he had already taken hold of her wrist and then was sliding her sleeve up her arm a little with his other hand.

Even she could just make out the dull, dark patches on her forearm and when she glanced up to look at his face she watched his expression change as he, with his far keener Dunedain eyesight, also saw them livid on her skin.

He let go of her arm and she dropped it to her side, smoothing her sleeve back down as she did so.

For a moment neither said anything, the tension now emanating from Halladan almost palpable, then both spoke at once, each one saying the other's name. They looked at each other.

"Do not try and defend my actions," he said quietly, his jaw tight. "You said I did not hurt you."

"You did not. Not any true hurt. Your grip was tight, yes, but," she half-shrugged and tried to smile, tried to make light of it, "I bruise easily."

She could see he was not buying it.

Something in his face changed, though it was hard to say to what exactly given he had his back to the main elvish fire and his face was shrouded in shadow for the most part. His hand moved, as if he were about to lift it to her, perhaps to take her hand or her arm or even cup her cheek, but instead it only hovered in mid-air for an instant before falling back to his side once more.

"I would not ask for your forgiveness," he said quietly, though with a strength of feeling clear enough in his tone, "because it is unforgivable that I should have done this to you."

Penny tried to interrupt to say that that was nonsense and that it was forgiven, even though there was nothing to forgive, but he would not let her.

"It grieves me deeply to see this, though I suspected it might be the case given the way Arvain described what happened. Know I am truly sorry. I would never wish to cause you any hurt, Pen-ii, you have to believe me, and I cannot tell you the pain it gives me to know I have done exactly that."

"Halladan, please!"

She stepped forward to him, and as she did so his hand, the one that had wavered before, gently and immediately took hold of her upper arm.

"I did not tell you or anyone because this is, truly, nothing. No, listen. Given what could have happened, compared to that, this is little indeed. You were not to blame. This is not even the result of your trying to harm me in your dreaming, merely because you were unaware of the strength of your grip, that is all. You have enough to deal with in getting well without carrying guilt as well, Halladan. Do not talk of not forgiving yourself or adding burdens to yourself that you do not need to bear."

She had only meant to try and comfort him, but something in her words clearly touched some nerve because he suddenly let go of her arm and half turned away. She stepped towards him, cautiously and not touching his arm (she had learnt her lesson on the Wall), coming round to look at him.

"Halladan? I know you blame yourself, but would you not say the same to another in your situation? Have you not tried to tell me not to blame myself for all I feel I had a hand in with the War?" She gave a rueful snort. "Compared to that, what are a couple of small bruises that will quickly fade?"

"Forgive me," and his voice was thick and hoarse with emotion, "I must seem very intemperate to you, perhaps. I thank you for your words, and for the sentiment behind them. Now, if you will excuse me."

He abruptly made to leave, not for the fire, but back off into the darkness towards the edge of the camp.

"Halladan?" She followed after him. "Halladan? What is it? What did I say?"

He turned towards her and she could see his face more clearly now since he was facing the elvish fire some way behind her. It was immediately apparent he was struggling to rein in strong emotions, not least of which seemed to be some considerable distress.

"This is not about…" He glanced at her arm then slowly looked her levelly in the eye. "I know you only sought to comfort me, Pen-ii, to ease my pain a little but I _do_ carry guilt and rightly so. For the rest of my life I will carry the responsibility I bear for the actions I have taken, the decisions I have made, be they conscious or unconscious. You say I am not to blame for what I did to you, and yet the consequences of my actions were grave and could have been far more serious yet." His gaze fell away and voice dropped to something close to a whisper, his tone bitter. "Decisions, actions… they all have their consequences."

Penny stepped slowly towards him, trying to work out what he was talking about, because it seemed there was more to this than simply the bruises on her arm.

"Halladan…?"

He looked up at her once more, the distress in his face beginning to win out over whatever else was struggling for dominance.

"It was my fault," he blurted out, his voice hoarse. "He saw me fall and ran to my aid. If I had not…" His face was twisted into something heart-breaking to see. "I was reckless. Battle rage, the real possibility that I would never see another dawn given the odds we faced, made me rash. I should never have got myself into the position I did, and when the blow from the mace took my legs out from under me he ran forwards to…" Tears were blinding him now. "And I could do nothing. I could not save him."

Penny was frozen to the spot, dumbstruck. The depth of hurt she felt for him in that moment were like nothing she had ever known. She knew there was nothing she could say that could even begin to salve his pain; that anything she said or did in that moment would seem woefully inadequate if not insulting in the face of what he was telling her.

She could not find the words.

His gaze had fallen away from her. He turned slowly and made to leave once more. She rushed forwards then, taking hold of his arm. He stopped and only half-glanced towards her, keeping his head bowed and thus not looking her in the eye, concentrated as he was holding himself together, his grief overwhelming him.

"Oh, Halladan, I… I am so sorry. I wish there was something I could... I am so, _so_ sorry."

Her voice sounded surprisingly calm given the distress she felt with tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks and her throat so tight it hurt.

He laid his hand gently on the one she had on his forearm and kept it there, his gaze focused on it for some moments and the only sound his own occasionally shuddering breath. Then at last he spoke, and his voice was so quiet it was a mere whisper, barely heard above the gentle chatter some way behind them. It may be he wept as he spoke. She could not tell in the darkness.

"Please, Pen-ii… do not pity me. This is my burden. I will carry it with me to my grave."

Then she felt the pressure of his hand on hers slightly, perhaps thanking her for the sincerity of her sentiment, for the sympathy she was showing him, before he let go and walked away.

She just watched him go.

"Halladan…"

He held up a hand, silencing her, not turning round. She knew it was best to leave him be, to not chase after him or throw more futile words his way.

For some minutes, then, she stood there, watching as he disappeared into the gloom, a dark shape against the larger ones of the tents, and then she could make him out no more. She came to herself slowly, turning a little to look towards the crowd round the fire and knew at once she was in no mood for it. She briefly wondered if she should say something, perhaps fetch Arvain or Faelon to find Halladan and be with him or if Halladan would be angered at her doing so. She even started to look for them amongst the crowd, thinking if she spotted them that would decide it for her, that if not she would simply return to her tent, though how much rest she would get now she knew of the extent of self-blame Halladan was carrying was debatable.

Just as she was about to turn and leave she happened to catch Faelon's eye. He smiled when he saw her, instantly starting to gesture with his head in a beckoning motion for her to join him, but his smile wavered the moment he registered the look on her face. He glanced about him briefly, perhaps to check if anyone was speaking to him or wanted him, even as he got to his feet to come over to her. Penny, realising her decision was now made (or, in part, taken out of her hands), withdrew a little into the shadows, waiting for him to reach her.

"Pen-ii, what is it? You seem upset. Has something happened?"

Penny could not think of the right way of putting it at first, and there was a moment's pause before she spoke.

"It is Halladan."

Faelon looked up and around them in some alarm, perhaps thinking to be able to spot him nearby.

"No, no, he is not here and," she added, staying Faelon as he started to move in the direction she had just looked, "best to leave him, perhaps. I… I was not sure whether to say anything, but…"

"Pen-ii, I have been told what happened yesterday. You have shown great loyalty to him, great tenderness of heart in keeping his distress secret whilst also pushing him to seek the help he so obviously needed. I thank you, for my sake who has known him since he was a mere babe in arms, and for the sake of his father who was my dearest friend. I know Aragorn feels the same. But if there is something more, then do not keep it from us. No more secrets, not now everything has come into the open. He needs that more from you now, as I know you well realise, so that I, or those who are far better skilled than I, can help him."

"It may be this is known already, I do not know, but…" She looked at him. "How much has he spoken of Hirvell's death? Of exactly what occurred?"

Faelon's face darkened, his expression becoming even more serious and concerned.

"He has never spoken of it, or not to me or anyone that I know of. It may be that in the last few days he has said something to Lord Elrond or Mithrandir, but if he had spoken to King Elessar or Arvain I would know of it."

Penny nodded.

"I am fearful he might be angry with me for repeating this, and I would ask that, if at all possible, he is not told of what I am about to tell you directly, that perhaps King Elessar or Lord Elrond encourage him to speak of it willingly himself, or perhaps suggest it to him as if they have guessed near the truth of it."

Faelon nodded. He understood.

"Go on."

"He… blames himself for Hirvell's death."

Faelon sighed heavily, almost in relief.

"Ah. Yes, that much has been clear to me since the time it happened. Nor do I blame him. Can you? He was prone, injured and unable to move, unable to even try to save himself, so how could he attempt to defend or aid his brother? It is to be expected he would berate himself for being in such a position…"

"No, no, you misunderstand, Faelon. He said to me… the way he worded it was such that he feels he left himself open to attack, did something rash and foolish, and it was only because of that that he was injured." She paused, looking at Faelon in all earnestness. "He says Hirvell ran to help him, to defend him when he saw him fall, and it was then that… I think he believes that if he had not done what he did, not acted as he did and so become injured, then Hirvell would still be alive today."

Faelon stared at her, realisation, dawning horror and grief intermingled on his face.

"I do not know the truth of it, how much of what he feels happened was preventable or truly his fault, very little I would imagine, but the important thing is that he is carrying terrible guilt and that, for all it is understandable, is something those trying to help him through this need to know if they do not already." She grabbed his arm. "Promise me you will tell them? He is in so much pain… I cannot bear to see him this way…"

Faelon smiled sadly, laying his free hand on her upper arm.

"Ai, Pen-ii. The tender concern you show for him moves me much. Again I thank you for it. You did the right thing. I understand better now the dark grief I have felt from him time and again. To witness what he did was a terrible thing in itself, one that would shatter a weaker man than he, perhaps, but to think himself the cause of it..."

They both heard a footfall behind Faelon, both turned to see Arvain nearby, his face stricken. He had seen Faelon hurry away and who waited for him so he had followed him, just as concerned by the possible implications as Faelon after the previous day's events.

It was immediately apparent he had overheard a good part of what had been said.

"Is this true? He told you this?" He looked to Faelon. "Elbereth... _Elbereth_…" He was at a loss for words.

"It is best we know, Arvain. He gave you no inclination of it that night he finally spoke to you of it?"

Arvain was shaking his head.

"He said he blamed himself, but like you I thought… Elbereth…"

"Where is he now, Pen-ii? Do you know?"

"He walked off in that direction. I did think to follow him, but he made it clear he wanted to be alone. I thought it best to leave him be. He was grieving."

"I must go to him!"

"No, Arvain." Faelon blocked his movement, holding both his arms as he stood in front of him. "No, leave him to his grief. Pen-ii is right. This is best tackled by Aragorn, Elrond and Mithrandir. It will serve nothing if we tell him that we know. Better he speaks of it himself to those who can best help to close the wounds within him. Besides… were you in his position would you want to be reminded of it? To then know others knew, perhaps then worry they blamed you as you blamed yourself? No. No, we must wait for him to tell us or not speak of it at all."

Penny offered to find Elrond, Mithrandir or Aragorn. Faelon said there was no need, that he would do it since he knew for a fact they were all together in Elrond's tent, and indeed hurried off straight away, though not before thanking Penny once more and reassuring himself that Arvain was quite all right.

Arvain had nodded and insisted he was but even in the little light there was, Penny could see he was pale and shaken.

"I was going to walk back to my tent. Would you care to accompany me?"

Arvain nodded, looking faintly grateful to have an excuse to stay away from the general company for a while.

After a long silence he asked how Halladan's confession had come about and Penny told him, frankly and in full, all of what had occurred. Arvain stayed silent throughout, looking at her only as she mentioned some of what she had been saying about her family to Halladan as they had sat on the meadow grass together, studying her with a sad, sympathetic smile on his face though she little realised.

At last they reached her tent and turned to each other. Arvain thanked her for her openness and reassured her he was fine, that it had been a shock and somewhat distressing to hear, but that he did not doubt for a moment it was no fault of Halladan's.

"And how like Hirvell, to leap to his defence." He paused, as if overcome for a moment. "Halladan would have done the same for him, for me, for any of us."

He nodded, almost to himself and Penny could see he was upset and caught his hand in her own. He gave her a sad smile, trying to make it as reassuring as he could manage, squeezed her hand and bade her goodnight.

Penny stood in the entranceway to her tent and did not turn to enter it until Arvain had disappeared from view.

Her sleep that night was fretful, and only came at last after she had lain awake for some hours on her bedroll. These past few weeks she seemed to have swung from one depth to another, be it her own grief or feeling for someone else's. She had a vague sense that she was nearing exhaustion on some level, that it was not spiralling out of control exactly, but that certainly there was a permanent sense of weariness, of 'feeling down' that was becoming all-pervasive.

Not good.

That said, she had felt some relief, some release of the pent-up weight of feeling within her when she had talked to Halladan earlier.

Of course, it had been completely superseded by his subsequent confession, but even so.

Arvain was smiling but quiet at breakfast. Faelon seemed to be making an extra effort to make conversation in his stead, but not even Penny was much in the mood for talking and he soon fell into silence. There was no sign of Halladan.

Indeed Penny did not see him till she was saddling the mare. He was already horsed as he came over to her. She looked up as he approached. Neither said anything but she smiled at him, albeit hesitantly and sympathetically, and he returned it, nodding. He waited as she finished and climbed into the saddle and then came alongside her as they rode off to join the rest.

It was as if the previous night had not happened, or if anything had simply made them even more understanding of each other, with no words needing to be spoken.

A little while before lunch they reached the Fords of Isen. Long, low slopes of grass terraces led down to the river as it meandered through the fields, the path cutting down through them. The Gap of Rohan was far to the east, a clear space between the two arms of mountains, and once again, as had so often happened on this journey, Penny felt somewhat in awe of where she was and what she could see before her.

The fords were made up of three lines of stepping stones, spaces wide enough for horses in between, leading through sand banks to a small island in the middle of the widest part of the flow and then on from it once more to the other side.

On the island was a mound, surrounded by stones at its base and a circle of spears on one of which flew the banner of Rohan.

It was no surprise, perhaps, that all crossed the ford and past that mound in silence. Once on the other side the first elves to cross started up a song of the honour of those who die in battle, and as others reached them, so too they joined in the song. That included the Dunedain since it seemed this was a song they also knew well, and the chorus was simple enough that Penny could make out one or two of Aragorn's Gondorian guard singing along after a few verses.

Penny understood the sentiment, respected the tribute they were paying to those who had fallen here fighting Saruman's forces, but she was in no mood to be able to deal with it. If nothing else, the closer they got to Isengard, the more she was very conscious that they would be surprised to find Saruman there no more and that she might once again be pressed for what information she might have. If they made the connection between her having already indicated the north might be in danger and Saruman having been allowed to leave…

With every passing hour, a knot of nervousness and anxiety was tightening in her stomach. Ai, was she to have no relief?

All the day, then, she was as quiet as the day before, perhaps more so. Halladan rode beside her, dark and silent also, and there was a strange comfort in that, just as on the day they had ridden to Helm's Deep: he asked no questions and she let him be. However she genuinely began to be slightly fearful, wondering if a storm was brewing for her above the valley of Isengard, and whether she might have to speak of what she knew at last.

* * *

Author's Notes: 

On the power of elvish song, and Galadriel in particular in this regard, it is worth noting that in that great tale of Tolkien's of Beren and Luthien, Beren was locked into a dungeon in a great tower of which Sauron was master, and Luthien eventually destroyed the tower thus freeing her love by the power of her song alone. So too after the War, Dol Guldur (Sauron's abode in the south of Mirkwood, prior to his being chased from there by The White Council after which he fled to Mordor, and where, during the War of the Ring, some of the Nazgul resided so spearheading the attacks on Lothlorien) was destroyed and Galadriel sang to overthrow its very foundations.

(Edit: in addition to which we also have the examples of Finrod disguising himself and his companions through the power of song - and then battling in song with Sauron until Sauron overcame him and he was thrown in the same dungeon and Beren - and also Luthien beguiling Morgoth himself with her song long enough for a Silmaril to be stolen. Elvish song can be heap powerful stuff)

As ever, my sincere thanks to all who comment, review or get in touch, let alone keep reading. Oh, and in response to one question regarding the ages of Arvain and Halladan. I have not been too specific, but I have made general references to the number of years older they are in relation to Penny before now, but just for the record: Arvain is around 26, nearing 27, perhaps, and Halladan is around 32 (ish).


	49. We're Off To See The Wizard

**Chapter 49** – _"We're Off To See The Wizard" _

The grass on either side of the well-worn route they followed from the fords was short and firm, and much as on the other side of the river, the caravan spread out wide. Nevertheless, the pace was still fairly sedate to allow for those on foot. It was notable, perhaps, that the grass here was almost entirely green other than some yellowing from the summer heat. The mass burning of grazing and crop meadows had been for the Rohirric side of the river only. The highway followed the path of the river eastwards and then northwards some way. Eventually they pitched camp just before sunset, only slightly further than the midway point between the Fords of Isen and the Valley of Isengard.

Penny offered her services and busied herself with whatever chores she could think of or could see needed doing. It helped her to keep herself occupied but also meant whatever mounting sense of anxiety regarding the following day would perhaps be less noticeable to others. She did her level best to appear as calm and 'normal' as possible and, when she could, encouraged chatter and conversation around her both to give her something else to focus on and to have attention diverted away from her slightly. However, to those who had seen how quiet and withdrawn she had become in the past week or so, this sudden attempt at sociability rang hollow. For all they commended the effort, they were concerned that she was really not quite up to it.

She picked at the evening meal, doing her best to eat (again in an attempt to try and not let her mood affect her behaviour too noticeably), but she honestly had little appetite. That Halladan ate, if not heartily then at least with more enthusiasm then he had in some days, only served to make her behaviour that much more noticeable to those nearby. More than once Arvain and Lindir exchanged a glance after they had asked her if she was feeling unwell or tired and she had insisted she was fine just not terribly hungry.

She knew it was likely that whatever in her behaviour was noticed would merely be put down to a continuing state of grieving. While it was true that that pain was still within her, it had been superseded entirely for the moment by other, more pressing concerns. Even so, it perhaps helped her, as appalled as she was to have to admit it to herself, to have an alternate, ready excuse for people to latch on to if need be. Despite this, when she had eaten as much as she felt she could honestly manage, she muttered her excuses and left before anyone could begin to question her more closely or start up a conversation directly relevant to what they thought might be affecting her.

She did not, as might have been expected, wander off into the darkness to be alone, even though that was exactly what she felt like doing. Instead she deliberately crossed round the fire till she was as far away from Lindir, Arvain and Halladan as possible and settled down in amongst a large group of ellith. Best to stay in the company of those who did not know her situation and thus would not be too overly aware or perceptive (or have the potential to be so at any rate). By mingling and seeming to be sociable she also reduced the risk of those who knew her full story coming to keep her company. To that end she stayed where she was and pretended to listen to the songs and stories with rapt attention.

Little was she aware of it, however, but as the evening progressed more than one person was keeping a careful watch upon her: nothing obtrusive, merely glancing every now and then as they sat amongst the company and listened to the chatter and song around them, but enough to indicate, had she observed it, that those who were close to her were worried for her.

Halladan, when he was at the fire and not off with the Dunedain, could see she was quiet, distracted and not really listening to whatever it was the ellith were discussing. Elrohir noticed when Penny had to be nudged on two separate occasions to wake herself from whatever reverie held her after she was asked a direct question. Erestor could see the slight furrow to her brow as she stared into the fire.

All Penny was vaguely aware of was a cold, tight knot somewhere in her belly.

Of course, tomorrow would be the first time she would be presented with a situation directly to do with the War that had been described in some detail in the books. During the War, stuck in Imladris, she had only been able to imagine events in her mind's eye as they had come to pass hundreds of miles away. Now she was on the cusp of witnessing something in real time for a change.

She did not like the prospect at all.

As much as anything, she was terrified that she would somehow give something away, that if she showed too much anxiety or distress that the hugely intelligent and wise people around her would connect two and two together and easily come up with four. Indeed, even as she stared into the fire, she was aware that the very fact that they knew problems still lay ahead and which they knew (in the case of Arvain, Halladan and Aragorn) or strongly suspected (in the case of Elrond, Gandalf and the others) lay in the north meant that, once they learnt that Saruman was no longer in Orthanc but had headed off into the wilds somewhere, they were very likely to jump to conclusions (albeit correct ones) without any help from her whatsoever.

And where would that lead?

She cursed herself mentally over and over for having said what she had back in Minas Tirith, for having triggered Arvain and Halladan's entirely understandable concern. And yet… what else could she have done, given they had not originally intended to return to the north at all for some more weeks or months yet? Gah, it was all such a mess. She had no idea what to do and could only hope that by keeping her mouth shut everything would play out as it should.

It was little wonder, then, that she was distracted for most of the evening, lost as thoughts whirled round and round inside her head. However, it had to be said that, as well as having the excuse of grief to cover her own behaviour, there were other distractions elsewhere in the camp which meant most were not as focused on Penny as they might otherwise have been.

Tomorrow would bring the breaking of the Fellowship. Aragorn would at last head back to Rohan while Legolas and Gimli would make their way north to their homelands together, travelling through Fangorn and then up the east side of the mountains. This meant that many of those that Penny was most keen to avoid for the evening were in fact busy spending their time in the company of all three.

The hobbits sat with Legolas and Gimli for the entire evening, the six chatting quietly when they could, though much of the time Legolas and Gimli were in conversation with a steady stream of people from all through the camp who were bidding them farewell.

Elrond came to speak to them both, for once spending some time at the communal fire instead of removed from the proceedings. Celeborn had messages for King Thranduil, both verbal and written, and at one point Galadriel herself stood to sing (unaccompanied and with a voice that held you in awe and made you want to weep simultaneously) about the thawing of the winter's frost and the first flowers of spring. It was dedicated to Gimli, so she said (which had him blushing to the roots of his moustache and gigantic beard), since the great service he had done them all, the gentle reverence he had shown them in Lothlorien, and the deep friendship he had forged with Legolas was something to be cherished and, she hoped, signalled the start of a renewed era of mutual respect between their peoples.

Aragorn made a point of coming and staying by the fire for the early part of the evening. He sat with the hobbits, Legolas and Gimli, talking and laughing, sharing old memories and stories one last time. However, he had also grown up amongst the elves and as such there were many there who had known him long and loved him well. He would not see many of them ever again after tomorrow and had many farewells to make that night. On top of which he needed to have long talks with the Dunedain, both as their chief and king, regarding his realm and their people.

As such, after an hour or so, he withdrew to his tent to consult in detail with many of the Dunedain, in groups or individually, as well as the great and wise amongst the party to discuss matters in his official capacity as a head of state: one last consultation and discussion with those whose opinions and advice he trusted absolutely and who had guided and taught him so well in long years past. That and some particular farewells he preferred to make at length and in private if they were people he had known well or felt it was warranted. Needless to say, wherever he went he was invariably in Gandalf's company – his old advisor and shadow.

Later, long after Penny had retired for the night, he came back to the fire once more to sit with the elves or else walk amongst them, Elrond and his sons by his side, sharing their company and saying his farewells to many he loved dear one last time, until dawn was near breaking. Only then did he go to get a brief hour's rest.

Penny waited till she felt it was late enough that she could disappear to bed without it seeming strange or indecently early. She made her excuses to Mireth and the other ellith before crossing over to where Legolas and Gimli sat to say her own farewells to them, given she suspected there might not be much opportunity to do so properly the following day.

She spoke to Gimli first, apologising for not having had the Westron to perhaps have got to know him better but, in her linguistically challenged way, managed to convey to him that she considered it a great honour to have met him and that he was a champion amongst dwarves whose name, she felt certain, would be sung for Ages to come. He beamed and bowed low, and then replied by saying that he hoped she would settle well amongst the Dunedain and that 'if his judgement was anything to go by she could not go far wrong with that proud and noble people whom he had felt honoured to have fought alongside.'

Then she turned to Legolas who actually made a point of stepping away from the company a little towards the shadows without her having asked if they could do so.

"I cannot begin to tell you how much you have helped me," she began. "The kindness and consideration you have shown me…"

"I did nothing."

"No, you did much. To be able to talk to you, to hear you talk of it all, both in Gondor and then again the other day… Thank you. My thanks are all I have to offer you, and it is not enough, but know it is sincerely meant."

He smiled gently.

"Ai, you are a strange one, Pen-ii." He looked at her and it seemed as if it was an intense look of scrutiny, though it was hard for her to tell in the gloom. "If you would take some advice from one whose opinion I would hope you trust, then seek some comfort for your pain."

Penny let her gaze fall, suddenly abashed and uncomfortable.

"I can feel it very plainly from you and I am glad that I have helped you a little in that respect, perhaps, but you are carrying too much within you. You have those around you with much wisdom. I know that it is perhaps difficult given there are things still to pass…" He paused, waiting as someone passed a little too close. "Take comfort where you can. Talk of what you need to."

Penny felt a rush of anxiety flood through her given how near the bone he had struck. By accident? Or had he in fact guessed, much as he had done back in Imladris, that not all was as it seemed?

"Will I see you again, do you think?"

She had meant to try and change the subject, to deflect the conversation away from where it seemed to be headed, but even as the question fell from her mouth she suddenly felt rather upset. Her emotions were raw given the state she was in, admittedly, but she also now faced the very real possibility that she might not ever see him again after tomorrow given that it was highly unlikely that she would go to Gondor again and he would be busy establishing himself in Ithilien for decades for all she knew.

"Well, I am sure I shall visit the north some time, perhaps. Maura and the others are insistent I should come to see them in Sûza, though I am not wholly convinced one of the Eldar coming to pay a visit to one of their kind would go down well if what they tell me of their people's general nature and attitude is true. Mithrandir agrees. I am not sure if you would ever visit Eryn Lasgalen, but you would be most welcome were you… Why do you look surprised?"

"Surprised?"

"When I said you would be welcome to visit my father's domain."

Again that intense, curious look.

"I had considered… I wonder, do I indeed…?" A slow smile spread onto his face and he nodded. "Well, we shall see." He laughed. "Ai, Pen-ii! Do I want to know? I am not sure I do."

"I will gladly tell you, only… I am not sure if I would be putting an idea into your head or simply confirming one already forming."

"Well then, perhaps I should tell you that both Gimli and myself have promised to return to Gondor as soon as we might, and with kin of our own to help the reconstruction there as best we can. That and King Elessar has spoken of offering me land if I should ever wish it, and I love him dearly enough that I would gladly live near to him."

He looked at her sideways, still smiling, as if gauging her reaction to his words. She grinned back and he returned it before laughing once more. Then her smile faltered slightly as a thought occurred to her.

"What is it?"

"It is not my place…"

"Ask what you will, Pen-ii. I know enough of your secrets, after all, so I think I can allow you one question. And besides," he added, smiling perhaps a little mischievously, "I do not have to answer it."

"I was wondering… Will you tell your father of the sea longing?"

His face grew serious then, and a little sad.

"He will sense it from me without my even telling him, Pen-ii, but I will tell him nonetheless. I will not be the first to sail West and leave those I love behind me and… it may yet be he would accompany me."

He did not sound wholly convinced, however, and Penny said nothing. Not that she had much chance to reply even if she had wanted to.

"But come," he said, attempting to break the mood, "you look a little tired and are off to get some rest, I do not doubt. We both have long journeys ahead of us still, and you mortals need your sleep. I am glad to have known you and it may well be that we shall meet again one day. I wish you every success and happiness in the north, and I do not doubt you will fare well amongst the Dunedain. They are a good and noble people, and I could not have chosen better for your guardians than Halbarad's sons, who are as like him in grace, honour and nobility as it could be hoped for."

"I thank you, Legolas. Truly. May Elbereth shine upon you as you travel north. I hope you will not find your homeland too badly ravaged by the fighting."

"Thank you, Pen-ii." Legolas smiled, bowed his head a little. Then, before he turned to go back to sit with Gimli and the hobbits once more he added, "And do not forget my advice, Pen-ii. It will serve you well, trust me."

Penny nodded and smiled, albeit at little uncertainly, watching as he headed back towards the fire before heading off towards her tent.

A short time later she had just stepped outside to tip away the water she had used to wash when she heard her name and looked up to see Halladan walking towards her down the line of tents.

"I was looking for you. Are you retiring to rest already?"

"Yes. I left the fire a little while ago."

"So I understood. I asked Mireth if she had seen you."

"Ah."

She tipped away the water down the side of the tent as he reached her. She straightened and looked up at him. He opened his mouth to say something, even as he took in the bowl in her hand and realised that she was indeed readying herself for bed.

"Er… no matter."

"What was it you wanted, Halladan?"

It occurred to her that perhaps he had been seeking her out so they could separate off from the company together as was becoming their wont. Indeed, this was the first evening in several that they had not spent some time together, or that she had not thought of him and wondered how he fared given everything that had gone on in Helm's Deep. She felt strangely guilty as a consequence.

"How have you been this evening?"

"We have been busy discussing matters in advance of leaving King Elessar tomorrow. There is much to be done, much to be considered and planned for."

She nodded, pleased he had had something to occupy him but also noting the fact that he, even as a younger member of the group, had been included in the discussions. Yet again, much like the position he had been given in the funeral procession behind Theoden, she was reminded of the status he and Arvain had simply by virtue of being Halbarad's sons.

"It was for that reason that I…" He made a gesture to indicate that it was of no consequence. "Aragorn was wondering if I had seen you, since he is trying to make some private farewells this evening, but it will wait till tomorrow. He said not to trouble you if you had already retired, so…" He smiled and shrugged slightly.

Penny did her level best to try not to react in anything other than an 'oh, was that all?' sort of fashion, but there was a certain tension about her that Halladan immediately picked up on, his look intensifying a little.

"If I may say so you have seemed a little… out of sorts this evening, Pen-ii."

Okay, don't look at him, Penny. Stay calm, stay CALM…

She looked down at the bowl, as if absent-mindedly checking it were still in her grasp before glancing back up and not quite looking him in the eye.

"Really?"

"Well, perhaps no more than usual. I commend you for having tried to stay with the company."

"I thought it would help to distract me a little. Give me something else to think about."

Halladan nodded. "I can understand that. It can be hard, when you have so many thoughts weighing upon you…"

He broke off, looking off to his right somewhere at nothing in particular and leaving his sentence unfinished. Penny looked down and could not help but smile quietly to herself a little at how forthcoming he was being with her. It seemed that they were indeed forging some common understanding between each other and that pleased her enormously, not only for her own sake but because it spoke volumes in terms of how much better he was, or had the potential to become, given he could speak in such terms to her.

"Well, I shall leave you." He nodded once. "I am sorry to have disturbed you. Rest well."

Penny thanked him and headed back into the tent, relieved that he had not insisted she see Aragorn then and there and that she had chosen to go to bed as early as she had and thus avoided such a possibility. A private audience with him, with any of them, was the last thing she felt she could deal with right now. Not least because there was some small part of her brain that was desperate to have some advice or a second opinion, worrying that she had made the wrong decision and yet too terrified of the potential consequences if she ever spoke of it all. She knew she would have been seriously tempted to break down completely in front of Aragorn and spill all.

No, better to let sleeping dogs lie.

She got under her blanket and lay down, if not to sleep then at least to rest as best she could. Sleep was almost impossible. She lapsed into unconsciousness in the end only through sheer exhaustion, and even then she kept waking every now and then as the anxiety within her filtered through even into her dreams. When she woke she did not feel sick exactly, but certainly had a heavy, cold tension that was physically palpable in her belly, just like she used to get as a child when she knew she had done something her mother would get angry about and it was simply a case of waiting till she heard about it or saw the damage. She just wanted today to be over and done with as quickly as possible.

The tea was running out. They were rationing themselves to a pot every three days now. Today was not a tea day, and when Lindir quipped about how it made a change not to see her drinking it at breakfast, she muttered something about how she was glad he was pleased, how she was sorry she was so unrefined as a mere mortal, but that frankly given how she was feeling she could seriously do with a cuppa right about now, so if he did not mind could he keep his opinions to himself.

She realised she had spoken waspishly but was in no mood to apologise and just left the meal at that point without a word, leaving several raised eyebrows and open mouths in her wake.

Frodo, who had overheard, had got to his feet saying that it would be 'no trouble at all if they diverted from their plan and put some water on to boil after all,' but she did not hear him and he was left waving a pot in his hand to her fast retreating back. He sat back down with a shrug.

"Someone got out of the wrong side of the bedroll this morning, I think," Celebdor murmured.

"I am not saying a word," Faelon muttered. He caught Celebdor's eye. "Oh, please, Celebdor, I have a wife and three daughters at home!" He laughed.

"I must say, the bit about being an unrefined mortal was a bit much," Rhimlath sniffed.

"Actually, I think she mistook me for you, Rhimlath," Lindir responded quickly, raising chuckles around him. Then, trying to make light of it all, he continued, "Besides, it is not the first time I have had my head bitten off by her. Admittedly not for some time, though."

"She has not been herself these last few days, ever since we left the Deep," Arvain replied. "She is missing her family… Halladan, where are you…?"

But Halladan was already gone, heading after her and quickly.

"Pen-ii?"

She did not turn round. She was not in the mood. She knew she was probably making it worse, but she really could not cope with…

"Pen-ii!"

He had caught up with her and took hold of her arm forcing her to stop and turn to him.

"What?!"

"That was uncalled for and you know it. You should apologise."

She said nothing for a moment, just glared at him, knowing he was right but damned if she was going to admit it. He glared back just as hard. She looked away and down.

"Yes, yes, I know. I will. Just… give me a moment to calm myself."

"This is not like you."

"I thought your father explained this was exactly like me." It had come out far harsher than she had intended. She had meant it to be vaguely jocular and self-effacing, but her irritation and nerves had undermined it entirely. "I mean…"

"He also said you had changed much," Halladan retorted sharply. "And I have not seen you behave in such a manner in all the time I have known you."

"I said I would apologise, Halladan, and I will!" She felt embarrassed and awkward now. "Leave me be, will you?!"

She walked off to her tent quickly before he could say anything further. He watched her go, his face unreadable and his brow furrowed.

Penny avoided them all for the rest of the morning, giving up her horse to Mireth and walking with the ellith from her tent. She did make a point, however, of seeking out Lindir and apologising, saying she had slept badly and not been in the best of moods. He smiled and told her to think no more of it, but even as he opened his mouth to say something more she had turned to go, cutting him off before he could ask anything further.

The morning seemed to pass interminably. Penny kept towards the outer edge of the group she was walking with, staring out at the scenery around her. The highway had swung away from the river and now headed straight for the mountains that crossed their path in a steep north-easterly diagonal. For all Penny tried to focus on the songs and quiet chatter around her, or look this way or that, her gaze kept flicking forwards towards the mountains as they loomed larger and nearer with every passing mile, and in particular towards the clear opening between the peaks that the highway was heading straight for: the Nan Curunir, The Wizard's Vale. The valley itself was formed by two long lines of foothills that pushed outwards from the mountain range behind. Even from a distance the horizon to the east showed the dark green line of Fangorn nestling up against the mountains and reaching close to Nan Curunir itself.

All too soon the hills loomed large before them, and they entered the valley itself. What had been a thorn-choked wilderness under the care of Saruman was now lush and green with meadow grass and flowers. Even though Penny had suspected such a thing, it was still fairly astonishing to see. She could not stop herself from craning her neck to see if she could yet spot Isengard somewhere in the distance, even though she knew it was more than a dozen miles off, deep in the valley. Murmurs from those on horseback nearby, several pointing ahead, meant the elves with their keen eyesight could already make it out well enough. There was a small bubble of excitement within her that she would see it at last, but the reality of her situation swamped it. Her thoughts were mostly focused on what possible reaction might or might not come from what the great and the good would learn from Treebeard once they met him.

And that was another point. She had not forgotten the near phobic reaction she had had to an Ent the last time she had seen one.

"You have been walking all morning. Would you care for a ride?"

She looked up to find Halladan coming alongside her, holding out his hand with a smile, offering to pull her up into the saddle behind him. She hesitated, not really wanting any company.

"Well, I…"

"Come."

He flapped his hand at her, gesturing for her to take hold of it as he halted his horse. She did so, and barely had time to step on his boot as he had instructed her before she felt him take almost her entire weight and pull her upwards. She swung her leg over the horse's rump and settled herself behind him. He shifted forwards a little to give her space but she still felt fairly squashed between him and his bedroll.

She was not quite sure what to do with her hands. It felt as if it would be strangely overly familiar to hold him round the waist for some reason, though she would have had no qualms at all in doing so if it had been Lindir, Arvain or anyone else. Given how slowly they were going she felt she could rest her hands on her thighs without any worry of falling off, but even that felt slightly peculiar and awkward, so she opted for holding on to one of his shoulders with one hand.

For a while they said nothing. Then Halladan spoke.

"Lindir told me you had apologised. I am glad."

"I said I would."

She hoped that had not come out sounding too aggrieved. There was a pause.

"I did not mean what I said this morning, Halladan. I had meant to jest, but it came out wrong…"

"No need to explain, Pen-ii. It is hard to keep your temper when you are struggling with strong emotions. I know it is difficult for you to see the places you have known so well from your tales. There was no great battle here at Orthanc, but it is the place where the perpetrator of all that came to pass back in the Deep dwells. You know full well, I have no doubt, what will be said to him this day. I can understand why you are somewhat withdrawn and not in the best of spirits."

Penny said nothing. It was some more minutes before Halladan spoke once more.

"You have been avoiding me yesterday and today. Has my company really become such a burden to you?"

His tone seemed jocular, and Penny felt sure if she could have seen his face he would have been smiling gently. He turned his head a little towards her, as if trying to glance behind him.

"No! I…"

"I had thought I had become a source of comfort, camaraderie or even distraction for you at such times." He paused. "I… am sorry if I shocked you with what I said to you the night before last." He was facing forward once more. "Perhaps I should not have been so frank."

The bitter note to his words made his implication clear: he suspected her opinion of him might have changed as a consequence. Perhaps he suspected that that was why she was avoiding him.

"No, Halladan. That you felt you could trust me enough to confess what you did… You could not have carried such a burden as that alone for the rest of your life. You were right to share it."

Now it was his turn to say nothing.

"I am sorry if you felt I was avoiding you." She searched for a reasonable explanation that would be fairly near to the truth. "I think I was avoiding everyone who knew my story well. I just wanted… to try not to think about it for a little while, to avoid any risk of it being mentioned."

Halladan nodded.

"Perhaps I also felt that you had too much to burden you already without adding my…"

"I have already told you, Pen-ii, that such a thing should not concern you, indeed it helps me to focus on something else for a while."

Again a glance behind him, this time turning his head far enough that he could just catch her eye and smile quickly before facing ahead once more.

Soon enough the earthen highway became a broad, paved road. From up on a horse Penny did not have to crane this way and that to see the dark pillar rising up in the middle of it ahead of them, though now with no remnant of the white, carven hand that had once sat on top of it. Ahead there should have been somewhere in the distance a faint line of the walls of Isengard, but there was nothing. Elves nearby could be heard saying they could see a garden and trees, and indeed as they got nearer and nearer even Penny could make out the two trees now standing sentinel where the gates once had stood and the tall, thin, black spike of Orthanc rising up behind them.

The knot in Penny's stomach curled tighter and tighter with every step of the horse's hooves.

Within an hour they were in front of what once had been the walls of Isengard. The Ents' work was plain for all to see. No remnant of the buildings, walls, pits or works remained. The mile-diameter bowl that the walls had encompassed was filled with flowers and trees, a broad path leading down to the spike of rock itself that loomed out of a small lake at the centre of the circle.

It was quite beautiful.

Or it might have been if the tower of Orthanc itself did not seem so dark and black, so sheer and imposing. It seemed utterly incongruous to its surroundings.

There was no sign of any Ents that Penny could see as she and Halladan dismounted. For that she was quite glad. Everyone was making ready for lunch, glad to be able to rest in such pleasant surroundings. Penny let Halladan lead her over to what she thought would be to join Mireth and the others who were busily helping Naurdir unload fruit, cured meats and the last few hunks of cheese and two-day-old bread.

Instead he meandered through the crowd until he spotted Aragorn standing to one side, talking with Faelon and the Dunadan with the eye-patch that Penny had danced with at Minas Tirith, while two servants unfurled a carpet, laid it on the grass, and then hurried off to fetch some lunch. Various members of the Gondorian Royal Guard stood round about nearby, and several Dunedain were mingling with them.

"Ah, Pen-ii!" Aragorn smiled as he caught sight of them. "I was too late to catch you last night, it seems."

The one-eyed Dunadan murmured something, bowed slightly and headed away, though not without smiling a greeting at Halladan and Penny first. Faelon too made his excuses and left.

"We have some time while they unload the stores, so I thought perhaps now might be..."

"Yes, yes, Halladan, of course." Aragorn gestured to the blanket. "Come. Sit."

Once settled, Aragorn explained he had only wanted to make sure that he had a few words with Penny before they parted company.

"After all, you are off to live amongst my people and in the care of those I love dearly. You will become something near to kin to me yourself as a consequence, you know." He grinned as Penny wriggled uncomfortably. "Ah, come now, Pen-ii, you must be looking forward to it, no?"

"Yes… and no, in truth."

"Oh?"

Aragorn exchanged an amused glance with Halladan.

"I have much to learn, and am so very unskilled in so much that I am sure is considered basic and essential…" She sighed. "I will do my best and learn what I can, but I fear it will not be enough. That and…" She glanced guiltily at them. They raised eyebrows at her. "Well, I am sure they will find me very peculiar. Perhaps not as peculiar as the Gondorians and Rohirrim have found me, but even so."

Aragorn laughed then, as did Halladan.

"Oh, have no fear, Pen-ii. They will treat you well and pay any deficiencies you may have no mind. I know Faelon likes you well, and Morfinniel is such that she will take to you instantly for his sake alone, let alone the fact that Halbarad would have taken you under his wing. You have the patronage of those who are well loved and respected amongst the Dunedain. That will serve you well. Your worries are understandable, but ill-founded. Believe me."

Penny nodded to indicate that she felt sure he was right and that she would do her best to remember it.

Aragorn then went on to talk of how he felt sure she would love the north, with its rolling hills and greenery, as much as he; how she would have to learn to make a particular form of stew if only so she could make it for him when he was next able to travel north ("and I shall expect it to be as good as my mother's, mark you, Pen-ii, so have Morfinniel teach you well"); how Halladan and Arvain had both assured him that they would take good care of her, see to her every need and make sure she lacked for nothing.

And the more he talked, the worse she felt. Here he was talking about the north in terms that showed his clear love for it and its people, and all she could think about was the hordes of who knew what heading there even as they spoke, if not already wandering abroad terrorising the locals.

She wondered if he would be very angry with her when next they met?

She had not noticed that Aragorn had broken off from his monologue.

"Pen-ii?"

He looked at Halladan who in turn quietly said her name and touched her arm. She looked up at them both.

"I am sorry. Forgive me."

"King Elessar was talking to you, Pen-ii…"

Aragorn held up his hand and shook his head gently at Halladan, staying his gentle rebuke. He leaned forward.

"Pen-ii, what is the matter? Is something troubling…? Ah, Elrond. Yes, please do join us. I was just having a few private words with Pen-ii here before I leave her in your care and Halladan's charge."

"Ah, indeed? Well, she is more your responsibility than mine nowadays, Estel, given she is to be under the protection of the Dunedain."

Elrond sat down, inclining his head to Penny and murmuring a greeting to Halladan.

The servants had returned with basic victuals, Celeborn and Galadriel were making their way across to join them, the hobbits with them, and the moment for any private talk was broken. Penny got to her feet and thanked Aragorn for all the kindness he had shown her, promising him, for Halbarad's sake, that she would do her very best amongst the Dunedain to learn whatever skills she needed and to fit in.

"I do not doubt you will, Pen-ii." He smiled. "Go eat."

Halladan and Penny wended their way back through the throng, most now seated and chatting quietly as they ate, till they found Arvain, Mireth, Lindir and the others. Penny forced herself to eat, for form's sake, but it was a monumental effort on her part. She did try to listen to the conversation around her, joining in with smiles when laughter erupted, but her gaze returned again and again to the jet black tower nearby.

"It is rather imposing, is it not?" Lindir replied as she dragged her eyes away from it once again and happened to catch his eye in the process. Slightly flummoxed she just nodded dumbly.

"Hmph. I hope they lock him up and throw away the key," Faelon rumbled darkly.

"Is he to be shown no compassion for his past?" Mireth asked quietly. "What he did was dreadful, but under the influence of Sauron… He did much while on The White Council, do not forget."

"Tell that to the families of the dead in Rohan," Faelon replied.

"I know," Mireth replied. "I do not forgive or exonerate him. I only meant that…"

"He bred orcs and humans, Mireth!" Penny suddenly cut in.

"We do not know that for certain," Lindir said quietly.

"How else do you explain the ability of the Uruk of Orthanc to withstand sunlight?"

There was a strained, awkward silence, both that she had been quite so frank and outspoken but also as everyone there focused on the appalling implications of how Saruman might have achieved such a breeding programme.

Penny pushed aside her food.

"Excuse me."

She got to her feet and walked away.

She found her horse in amongst the rest. She rummaged in her saddle bag and got out Erestor's book of poetry, thinking that at least she could lose herself in that for the time that they were camped here since it seemed like proceedings would take a little while yet. She took herself with it to the edge of the large group of travellers, very deliberately faced away from Orthanc and sat cross-legged, her chin in one hand as she read.

It was some time before anyone came to join her. She was in the middle of re-reading the same line for the fifth time when she looked up to find both Halladan and Lindir making their way towards her, Lindir calling her name.

"Fancy a walk around the place?" he asked when they had reached her.

Penny considered the options: to wander about a place she would have strongly preferred never to have visited, or else sit, wait, fail to read poetry and instead let her mind wind herself up more and more.

"Yes. Thank you. I could do with a distraction."

"Poetry not working?" Halladan grinned.

"Not this time, no. Um… I am not sure I would make good company."

Best to get her excuses for not being talkative out of the way in advance, she felt. It would save awkward questions later.

"Oh, you will not be company for us, Pen-ii," said Lindir with a wide smile, taking her arm. "We will be company for you. Right, Halladan?"

Halladan chuckled while Lindir grabbed Penny's book and led her off on a gentle ramble, doing a wide circuit of the gardens of Orthanc while he and Halladan talked over the top of her head about this, that and the other. Not once did they refer to where they were. Not once did they mention Saruman or indeed anything to do with the War or Gandalf, Aragorn or anyone else of note. They spoke quite a bit of the north, of favourite plants or landscapes, arguing gently about where was the best spot to watch the sunset or sunrise, or the best season for particular flowers.

The discussion did get slightly off track when Penny was warned about a particular plant that, when its leaves were crushed, gave off a highly unpleasant smell that hard scrubbing would only just get rid of and even then it might take several goes (and days) to really wear off. Needless to say Lindir was the expert.

"Father said you used it on Elladan once…"

"That's a lie! I never used it on him. … I put it in his bed."

Halladan laughed loud and Penny, despite her mood, could not help but join him.

"But why in Arda would you…?"

"Oh, it was part of a long-running feud between the two of us for a little while when he was younger. Needless to say poor Elrond was nearly driven to distraction by it. I think the incident with the weasel was the final straw, though."

"HA! I can remember Grandfather telling me about that!"

"Well, it has gone down in history, it has to be said. But then if Elladan would insist on trying to pull a prank on me of all people…"

"I would never have put Elladan down as the type."

"Precisely, Pen-ii, which is why the weasel incident went so horribly wrong. Of course, it was rather unfortunate that it should have happened while Lord Celeborn was visiting us and they were out hunting… Yes, I should probably explain for your benefit, Pen-ii. Elladan spirited up a weasel from somewhere and left it in my chambers for me to discover. I had been forewarned by Erestor who, at Elrond's bidding, was trying to put a stop to the tit-for-tat, so I was able to catch the thing and return the favour by waiting for an opportune moment and then sneaking it into Elladan's pack the next time he went out riding."

"Which happened to be as part of a hunting party with his father and Lord Celeborn among others…"

"He was still a fairly young ellon and desperate to impress, and he was always rather keen on making a good appearance…"

Penny smirked, remembering how Elladan had reacted long ago to having lent her his comb.

"…which is why he felt rather aggrieved by it all afterwards," Lindir continued. "Anyway, when he heard scrabbling from inside his pack he, of course, investigated…"

"…and had to be sent back to Imladris with a rather nasty bite on his finger…"

"…blood all down his new, dove-grey tunic …"

"…and a bandage on his hand the size of marrow."

Penny shook her head at Lindir.

"You are incorrigible, you know that?"

"Is it true Elrond sent you to Lothlorien for a few years after that?"

Halladan grinned cheekily at him. Lindir ignored him.

"'Incorrigible', Pen-ii? That is a rather long word. Erestor's poetry is clearly working wonders."

"The word 'incorrigible' is not in any of the poetry in Erestor's book…"

"Or Erestor's poetry."

"Eh?"

"This is mostly his work." He waggled the book at her. "Did he not tell you?"

"No."

Lindir grinned. "I am not the only one with some little talent in Imladris, you know."

"I do not doubt that for a moment, but I would never have assumed… I mean, most elves would be capable of…"

She saw Lindir's expression and realised that, no, apparently in his opinion not all elves would be capable of the quality of poetry in that book. She smiled, faintly proud and pleased to have got to know Erestor's work without having known he wrote any of it, and having loved it and told him so entirely without prejudice.

"It is very good. Superb. I told him so, too."

"Good. Quite right too. And speaking of which, I had better head back to the main group. I hope we have provided a good diversion for a little while, Pen-ii. If you will insist on not asking for such things, then we have to take it upon ourselves to provide it. With time your pain will ease, and we must help to make the time pass that much more quickly if we can."

Penny smiled, and would have said something except he spoke before she could do so.

"You are welcome. I will see you both in a little while."

So saying, he handed back Penny her book and headed off towards the main encampment, though by now it was a fairly straggly affair with people wandering about hither and yon admiring the work of the Ents.

Halladan and Penny shared a smile before Halladan turned to carry on walking in the same direction they had been going. For a while they were silent, and when he spoke at last it was to pick up where the conversation had left off by saying that he had it on good authority (namely his father and grandfather) that while Elladan had been forbidden from retaliating by his father, Elrohir had acted for him and, the night before Lindir had left Imladris to accompany Lord Celeborn back to Lothlorien for a spell there, Elrohir had filled his entire chambers with the plant that had first brought the whole sorry saga about, and that included making sure it was in every drawer, every wardrobe, in the pocket of every tunic and inside every boot.

Apparently Celeborn had insisted on Lindir riding downwind of him for most of the journey there.

When Penny had recovered from her fit of hysterical giggles, she found Halladan smiling broadly at her.

"What?"

"Nothing. It is good to see you laugh, that is all. These past few days…" He made a half-shrugging gesture. "No matter. Shall we carry on walking?"

They did so and, after some time, Halladan glanced up, squinted and held his hand to his eyes. Even as he did so Penny could hear a dull, rumbling sound coming out of the mountain foothills to their left. As she looked in the direction Halladan was gazing she saw a great, tall… tree, for want of any other description, striding down the hill, hrumphing and booming as it went.

Treebeard.

Something in Penny's throat made a strangled squeaking noise and she stepped closer to Halladan, grabbing for his arm and positioning herself slightly behind him so he was between her and Treebeard, even though Treebeard was quite some distance from them and making a beeline for the gardens of Orthanc and thus not likely to come anywhere near them.

Halladan glanced at her and laughed.

"It is not funny."

"Well, no, it is not in truth. What in Arda are you afraid of?"

"I do not know, and I know it is ridiculous, but… does it not make you feel strange to see a tree walking about?"

Halladan shrugged.

"No stranger than seeing the ghosts of the dead fight, and far less unnerving."

Fair point.

As they watched Treebeard cross their path, Penny knew that he was on his way to meet Gandalf and the rest. Whatever in her mood had been dissipated by the efforts of Lindir and Halladan came back in a rush, and when Halladan turned to ask if they should continue walking or head back, his question died on his lips.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"I can see it is not nothing."

He glanced at Orthanc, Treebeard now having disappeared into the gardens.

"We should probably head back, should we not?"

She tried to sound inconsequential despite feeling almost sick with nervousness now. When she looked up at him it was to find he was studying her closely.

He was not buying it.

"What happens here, Pen-ii?" He paused, as if allowing her time to reply. "I have seen how changed you have become these last few days and it is not all grief, for I have seen you in such moments also."

"Please, Halladan."

"You think I cannot see the state you are in? You have become withdrawn, distressed…"

She turned and walked away, utterly unable to deal with this right now, but he was still talking to her.

"What kind of guardian, what _friend_ would I be if I did not insist on helping you or that you talk to me? Have you not insisted on the same with me in my turn? Pen-ii!"

She stopped but did not turn round.

"Do you forget that we Dunedain have the gift of foresight also? It can be a heavy burden and I fear for you, you have changed so markedly in recent days…"

"He is not there."

He would find out almost the moment he got back to the others. What did it matter now?

"What?"

Only now did she turn back to him.

"He is not in Orthanc. Saruman. Treebeard let him go some days ago, a week or more."

She stood, looking at him for a moment, taking in his disbelief, confusion and astonishment. She made to leave once more.

"Wait… This was why you were so alarmed at being here?"

It was a rhetorical question. She could see that by the way he was not looking at her, almost talking out loud to himself while he processed the significance of this information and her behaviour to date. When he looked at her at last, she knew he had realised. His entire face had changed to one of disbelief and concern.

"He heads north. That was what you would not tell us."

She did not reply. What would be the point? It alarmed her that he had made the connection so quickly, made her genuinely fearful of what might happen with Gandalf and the rest. Meanwhile, Halladan had understood her silence as the affirmation it was.

"But, Pen-ii, he is broken! He is nothing like the power he ever used to be. He is weak, a mere shell of what he was. Besides, the influence of Sauron over him has gone… What is it? Why are you shaking your head?"

"All that is true, Halladan, but he is still capable of…" She sighed. "He is malicious and vindictive, full of spite and bile. He might not wield the power he did, but he will still do what little he can, simply because he can." She glanced up to see the confusion in Halladan's gaze, knew he wanted more explanation. "Please, Halladan, I cannot… I do not want you to be…"

He stepped forward then, took hold of her by the arms.

"Listen to me, Pen-ii. I am more than capable of making my own decisions. I am well aware that what you might tell me will be hard for me to hear. That much was clear in Minas Tirith. I have guessed at the truth. Now tell me all."

She looked at him for several moments, trying to blink away the tears and failing.

"But…"

"Tell me."

"You would have to…"

"I know. Tell me. Would it not help you to share this with someone rather than keep it all within yourself?"

Yes. Yes, it would. She vaguely remembered Legolas advising her to do more or less exactly that only the night before. She looked at him, worried and fearful, but the strength of resolve she saw in his eyes, the confident reassurance, decided it for her.

So she told him. Perhaps not in blow by blow detail, but enough that he understood the significance of Saruman's departure. He had taken her by the hand and insisted they sit as she had begun to talk, and fairly soon he had his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands as he listened. When he said they had to stop it, she told him of the great benefit that would come from how Merry, Pippin and Sam would deal with it all, how they would become heroes amongst their own people whereas what they were already known as heroes for in the rest of Middle-earth would be largely ignored and ill understood.

"Besides, who is to say even if Saruman were not there, the men and half-orcs would not make their way into Suza anyway? Indeed, by having Saruman draw them to one place does that not possibly make your job a little easier?"

"That is not the point."

"I know, but… change it and who knows what might happen? This way it is certain, the end is known: Saruman dies."

"Mireth was right, Pen-ii. He has done great evil, but he was under Sauron's thrall. He was once a great wizard, a member of the White Council…"

So she then told him how Aragorn would bring Gimli with him at some point in the next year or so to Orthanc and how they would find the place stuffed full of treasures from near and far.

"So he is a thief and hoarder of treasure…"

"No, he has been looking for something. For long years. Long before he knew of kuduk travelling with the Nine Walkers and what one of them carried."

Halladan stared at her in shock.

"They will find a door so well hidden that only a dwarf would be able to discern it was there, let alone open it. Behind it they will find a locket on a chain… and the Elendilmir."

Halladan blinked at her as comprehension dawned, barely able to believe what she was telling him.

"_The_ Elendilmir?"

She nodded and then watched as Halladan's face paled and his eyes blazed.

"He found Isildur?" The question was ground out through clenched teeth.

"It is said that… he… burnt the bones."

Halladan exploded at that point. Literally jumped to his feet and roared his fury to the skies. Penny did not ask for a translation.

Of course, then Halladan was all for telling Aragorn and the others so that Saruman could be 'hunted down and run through like the dog he was,' indeed Penny suspected Halladan would happily take on the job himself, but she then had to point out that he only had her word for it, that she was talking about things that would only be discerned with hindsight and only proved with time. Not only that, but Gandalf was wise beyond mortal understanding and yet when he would meet Saruman on the road, he would let him go on his way, even though he would remark 'the snake still had one tooth' and could be capable of mischief.

And then she told him about Galadriel's gift to Sam, the dust that would make the Shire bloom and grow like it never had before, and the mallorn that would replace the party tree.

"But if she has foresight then why have you not…?"

"Because I do not know for certain she has, nor the precise nature of it and I dare not risk influencing those who will meet him on the road in any way by trying to find out, Halladan!"

She waited while he came to sit next to her once more.

"You have to promise me, Halladan, no one can know any of this. Not yet."

"I cannot promise you, Pen-ii."

"What?! But I would never have…"

"This is too momentous, Pen-ii." He looked at her. "Do kuduk die?"

Oh, this was not fair. Tears pricked her eyes once more.

"Yes, but…"

"Well, then."

"No, Halladan! They die in their fight to throw out the men, just as men have died in battle in Rohan and Gondor! Gah, I do not know. Please, Halladan, do not do this to me! Do you think I have not worried and agonised about this, looked at it from every angle?! I am barely sleeping… Please, Halladan!"

"I am not saying I will speak of it, Pen-ii. I… I need time to consider everything you have told me. If I feel I cannot hold my peace then I will talk with you first, indeed would insist you accompany me."

Penny stared at him, shattered, but in a strange way also vaguely grateful that part of this might be taken out of her hands. Halladan forced a smile at her.

"Come, we had best head back. I cannot say I am glad to learn what the future may yet bring. It saddens and shocks me greatly, but I can understand what you say about the merit within it. Whether that is enough to justify…" He saw the expression on her face and cut himself short. "You have my word I shall keep this to myself for as long as I feel I can, but I cannot promise you that I will not speak of this. You trust my judgement, do you not?"

She nodded.

"And I think we can both agree that I know something of the people involved perhaps better than you. Well, then," he held out his hand for her to stand as he got to his feet, "in the meantime you have someone who knows what you carry, with whom you can talk freely. That is something, is it not?"

"Halladan, I…" She looked up at him, tears pricking her eyes. "I am so sorry."

"Well, I cannot say you have not provided me with something else to think about besides my own burden." A rueful half-chuckle. "Come, they will be missing us soon if we do not hurry."

* * *

Author's Note:

The details of Saruman's past, much of which I have not gone into here but Penny would have no doubt gone through with Halladan, such as his lasting jealousy and resentment towards Gandalf, which began even before they left Valinor, and his focusing on the Shire long ago solely because Gandalf had an interest in the place, let alone what he did with Isildur's remains in his search for The One, can all be found in Unfinished Tales.

I think I have mentioned this before in Author's Notes, but for those unfamiliar with the story it is as Penny has explained to Halladan, the significance of it being that Saruman's search for the One Ring had been going on for centuries – long before Sauron moved back to Mordor and thus was able to influence him via the Palantir.

As ever, my sincere thanks and appreciation to everyone still reading this and those who leave comments, reviews and get in touch.

My sincere apologies for the length of time this chapter took to get done.


	50. Que Sera Sera

**Chapter 50** – _"Que Sera Sera" _

As they walked back the way they had come, Penny's levels of anxiety did not lessen despite Halladan having said he would (for the moment at least) keep her secret quiet. He could see from the expression on her face and the tension about her that she was worried. As they neared the crowd of travellers, it became clear, even from some distance, that preparations for leaving were well underway albeit, at a relatively leisurely pace. Halladan also noted that with every step closer to rejoining them, the slower Penny became, as if she were truly fearful of what might be waiting for her.

"Ride with me once more this afternoon, Pen-ii," he said quietly. "If there is any talk to be had best it is done long into the night when there is both the time to do so and after there has been an opportunity for those concerned to have reflected on matters somewhat." He saw her look sharply at him, alarmed. "Not that we should assume the worst," he added hurriedly.

They were met by Arvain, riding forward some way to greet them the moment he caught sight of them.

"Ah, there you are!" He was grinning. "I was wondering if I should have to wait here for you or perhaps go out looking for you while the company went on its way."

"They are not ready to leave just yet," Halladan replied somewhat tersely. He did not seem to find the funny side, and Penny knew, for all he his kind words to her, that he was still much affected by what she had told him.

"I know, brother, I know. A jest, is all." Arvain gave him a strange look, wary, perhaps worried his brother was in one of his 'moods' again. "You had a pleasant walk, I trust, Pen-ii? Feeling a little better, perhaps?"

"Can you find Mireth and let her know Pen-ii's mare is free if she wishes to use it, or else another elleth?"

Penny's glance flicked sideways at Halladan before she replied to Arvain's question.

"It was a most pleasant walk, yes, thank you, Arvain."

Arvain nodded, smiled, and then, with a last look at Halladan who had already turned to make his way through the crowd, pulled at the reins to turn his horse and make his way round to where he had last seen Mireth and Celebdor.

Penny hurried after Halladan, who was striding forward past people helping to load up the horses once more or else standing in groups, brushing grass from their clothes as they made themselves ready. As they made their way to the furthest side of the gathering from Orthanc where most of the horses had been left to graze, Penny caught a glimpse through the crowd of Legolas and Gimli standing with Aragorn, Gandalf and several others, saying their final farewells.

She lost sight of them briefly amongst the various people standing in the way or walking here and there, and when she next caught sight of them, Gimli was saying something that had the others chuckling - rueful regrets about ever having agreed to enter Fangorn with Legolas, perhaps. Then, in that same instant as she glanced towards them once more, Gandalf suddenly turned his head sharply in her direction and looked at her.

It was as if he had known she was there, known she was looking at him. Penny gasped slightly and froze. He was staring straight at her, his eyes beady and clear underneath his huge hat and eyebrows. There was no mistaking it, and it was absolutely deliberate on his part. His gaze was piercing, direct, and possibly a little knowing, though it was hard for her to tell from this distance. His expression was unreadable, almost dispassionate. For that instant it was as if there was no one else there, as if the huddled groups of a few hundred people had melted away and there was only her and him.

What it meant, she had no idea. Whether it meant he knew all – either because he had known all along or had now guessed and put it all together – or whether it meant that he was still in the process of assessing quite why she might have kept that day's events secret and what significance, if any, they might therefore have as a consequence, she could not say; but she knew it meant _something_.

And then, just as quickly as it had happened, the moment had passed. He had turned back to Legolas and Gimli and it was as if nothing at all untoward had happened.

Penny could not move. It was as if all the blood had drained from her body momentarily. She felt like she was in shock. Then she turned and fled as quickly as she could before he could turn back once more or even come over to her. She did not dare glance back in his direction once more in case it happened again. She could just make out Halladan now some way ahead of her, not aware that she had paused for what had only been a few seconds, though it had felt like minutes. She caught up with him, grabbing hold of him by the arm to walk alongside him, pressing herself against him to make space for others as they passed them by.

He glanced at her, could see she was pale, could feel her fingers digging into his arm.

"Pen-ii?"

She shook her head, but faintly as if the tension in her body would not allow her to move it too much. He gently pulled his arm away from her hold and brought it round behind her, resting his hand upon her shoulder and propelling her forwards, ushering her along with him till they reached the horses. He got into the saddle first after putting her book into his saddlebag, then reached down to help her up behind him just as he had before. They were amongst the last to get onto a horse, and the vanguard was already setting off when they did so.

Only then did Penny glance back at the great, black spike of rock. Treebeard had disappeared into the garden, having waved a last farewell to all. Now only Legolas and Gimli stood to one side, watching them all move past them as they smiled and nodded in farewell. Then at last they too turned and wandered off together towards the eastern hills.

Penny felt incredibly grateful to Halladan that afternoon. Despite how he must be feeling, processing what she had told him, he had not said a word to anyone and instead had gone out of his way to give her some protection, at least for the time being. She was not left alone to be with her own thoughts, and by travelling with him in such a manner it was far less likely she would be pounced on by Gandalf or anyone else (even if that had been likely to happen, and it was by no means certain, for all she was fearful of exactly that). It also limited any other social interaction to some extent, or at least limited what might be directed solely at her, thus allowing her to have the privacy she needed given the state she was in.

As they rode, Halladan slowly moved up the line till he was riding in amongst the Dunedain, and given they invariably rode in silence or with limited, quiet talking, that was ideal as far as Penny was concerned. Arvain rode beside them for much of the afternoon, and Faelon and Tadion were just up ahead of them.

Admittedly Aragorn spent much of the afternoon riding with the Dunedain also, and given he was due to leave them all, Gandalf and the hobbits rode with him, with Elrond, Celeborn and Galadriel just behind them. However, Halladan had positioned himself towards the rear of the Dunedain and Aragorn was leading them all, so Penny was not too concerned when she realised. That and the fact that no one seemed to be making any attempt to search for her or glance behind them towards her meant she was far less anxious with their proximity than she might otherwise have been. Even so, she kept herself as hidden behind Halladan and unobtrusive as possible. She still felt awkward about holding Halladan round the waist and once more held on by his shoulders, one hand at a time.

"It is a good thing we are not going at any speed, Pen-ii," Arvain quipped at one point, "or you would soon tumble off with so scant a hold on my brother. Do you really find him so noisome?"

Penny could feel herself flushing a little and cursed herself for it. Arvain laughed till he caught Halladan's glare, coughed and bowed his head slightly at them both by way of apology, though Penny could see he was still smirking his head off. Indeed, as he moved forwards to ride beside Tadion for a little while, there was a definite loud snigger.

Halladan turned back to face forwards and Penny felt his shoulders rise and fall as he sighed slowly and heavily as if supremely irritated. Of course, Penny now felt even more awkward about how and where to touch Halladan and removed her hands from his shoulders completely.

"Pay him no heed, Pen-ii. My brother likes to make fun."

"I am quite comfortable, I assure you," she replied, placing her hands on her knees.

Halladan glanced towards her, and though he did not turn enough that she could catch his eye, she saw the faint hint of a smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What?"

"I am tempted to take a sudden gallop up to the vanguard is all."

Penny narrowed her eyes at his back, though she could not help but smile at the same time.

"You would not dare."

"Would I not?" Again that glance and a smile.

There was a beat. Then Penny placed both hands on his waist. Halladan laughed. She could swear she knew he was still grinning even some minutes after, and she was smiling too, even if it was out to the rolling green beside them.

Or at least she was until she remembered the look Gandalf had given her back at Orthanc.

The journey south seemed to go much more quickly than when they had travelled in the morning. All too soon it seemed they were stopping, the train pooling into a huge mass once more. Penny and Halladan dismounted, like many of those around them, as much to get the blood circulating in the legs even if only for ten minutes or so, Halladan rubbing at his injured thigh for some moments before he felt it could properly bear his weight. However, they still stayed with the rest of the Dunedain, near to Aragorn as he took his final leave of hobbits, elves and his kinsmen. Penny hung back a little behind Halladan and, whether fortuitously or by design, he kept them at the furthest edge of the group from Gandalf and Galadriel.

The farewells were made. The hobbits, Pippin in particular, seemed close to tears. Aragorn got down on one knee to take each one by the hand and speak to them one to one. Pippin threw all decorum to the wind and hugged him tightly round the neck, and neither Aragorn nor anyone else made to stop him. Then he recovered himself, stepped back and bowed low and formally and would not come back upright till 'his King' had bade him rise. Frodo hung back a little till the last, and when Aragorn took his hand neither said a word, both too moved to say anything. Elrond embraced his son-in-law and held him for several moments, clasping him by the shoulders as he had pulled away from him and holding his gaze for a while. Elrohir and Elladan also embraced him and clapped him on the back, saying they would see him soon enough they did not doubt. Celeborn grasped him by the forearm and spoke quietly to him, while Galadriel smiled and kissed his brow as if she were his mother.

Gandalf was amongst the last to say his farewells, perhaps understandably enough given the relationship the pair had had. They had travelled far and wide together, indeed Gandalf was very much Aragorn's mentor and guide in all that he had achieved, in all that had finally come to pass. Gandalf laid one hand upon Aragorn's shoulder, looking him intently in the eye and smiling softly. Then he nodded, his smile broadening, as Aragorn murmured his farewell.

Then, as Aragorn climbed back into the saddle, the vanguard began to move off once more, this time turning towards the west and the Gap of Rohan.

The Dunedain had lingered, even as the rest of the party rode or walked past them. Every man amongst them was looking towards Aragorn with respect and affection in their eye. Aragorn moved his horse towards them a little, taking them in before wishing them well on their journey north, thanking them for the bravery they had shown, and assuring them that their names and in particular the names of the fallen would not be forgotten in Gondor for as long as it was in his power.

"You have been long away, and in such times who can say how far has been the shadow's reach. We talked long about this last evening. May Elbereth go with you, my friends. Often my thoughts shall return to you and yours, and I shall come and visit you as soon as I might."

"Have no fear, Aragorn," Faelon replied. "You have much work to be done in the South dealing with whatever might be the legacy of Sauron's influence on your borders. We shall tame whatever might have reared its head in the North. Rest assured anything that has traversed the mountains or come up the Greenway shall rue the day they entered the lands of the Dunedain."

Aragorn laughed softly. "I do not doubt it, Faelon."

He took them all in once more. Did Penny imagine it, or did his eye linger on her for a fraction of a second longer than anyone else?

"Farewell! Eru speed you! Elbereth protect you!"

They replied in turn and only then, at the last, did they turn to leave him, his Gondorian men-at-arms all horsed about him. As they filed past him or turned away, every Dunadan there nodded his head just once as he caught Aragorn's eye. As Halladan turned his horse, nodding his head in his turn, Penny saw Aragorn smile in her direction when her turn came, a smile that, for all it was brief, spoke of reassurance – she would be fine given the company she was in – but there was also a certain intensity about his look that unnerved her a little. She nodded her head just once, copying the others, and then the horse was turned and he was behind her.

As they headed down the slight grassy slope to join the rest of the train Faelon started up a song, one that every man with him immediately took up and, glancing back, Penny could see that even though Aragorn was not joining in it moved him much to hear them sing it. It was one she recognised as being an old favourite, one she had heard sung more than once round the Dunedain fire: a song about the land of the North and the strong, brave men who roamed it, protecting it and waiting for the day when their chieftain would return south to claim his birthright.

After a little while she looked back once more to see that Aragorn was now holding the Elfstone and had lifted it high into the air. The late afternoon sun caught it so that it gleamed in his hand like a strange, green flame. It shone with a near dazzling brilliance, a green star in the slowly gathering dusk, until at the last it was lost from view amongst the trees and bushes.

Much as when they had been travelling south and had pitched camp late when they crossed the mountains so as to be able to cross them in the shortest possible time (given the risk of orcs), so now they travelled on until the sun had been set for some time and night was truly upon them. Better to get as far as possible tonight so they could enter (and ultimately exit) the land of the Dunlendings all the sooner.

All this was explained by Halladan as the sun disappeared below the mountains and even the faint orange glow in the sky visible between the last peaks of the White and Misty Mountains began to fade after Penny had wondered out loud if they would not be stopping to camp any time soon.

Apparently she had looked more alarmed than she had intended by his explanation, given Tadion, now riding on the other side of them from Arvain, glanced at her and chuckled.

"Oh, they will not try anything, Pen-ii," he said with a friendly smile.

Halladan looked round as if trying to see her expression for himself.

"You are not worried, are you, Pen-ii?"

"No."

And she was not, in truth. Not only was she surrounded by a couple of hundred warriors, but she was also fairly certain that, if memory served, it was said that the Dunlendings had shrunk away in fear from the travelling group and had left them well alone.

Arvain made a snorting noise to no one in particular and growled something about him almost hoping they _did_ try something. Halladan and he exchanged a glance which Penny took to mean that Halladan could absolutely appreciate the sentiment behind Arvain's words.

"Given the company they have kept till now, I would not put anything past them," Tadion muttered darkly.

"Which is why we will be on full guard for as long as we travel through their land," Halladan added with an air of finality.

The topic was dropped. Halladan as their elder as well as higher in rank (or the nearest equivalent given such things did not exactly exist amongst the Dunedain) had brought the matter to a close. There was no more to be said, or so his tone of voice made clear. Perhaps he was worried about alarming Penny unnecessarily with such talk. Indeed as he spoke, Tadion glanced almost guiltily in Penny's direction and mumbled a 'yes, of course' and added that it would be more of a formality than a genuine necessity, he was sure.

It was another clear night, and there was a definite drop in temperature as night fell. Penny clutched Halladan's tunic, tense with cold, and could feel goosebumps all over. She wondered where her horse might be in amongst the train and briefly looked round to see if she could spot it, thinking she might be able to get Halladan to stop while she hoiked out Mireth's shawl from in amongst her bags. She shivered involuntarily as she turned back round, having not been able to make out anything much in the gathering dark.

"Reach behind you and get my cloak, Pen-ii," Halladan said, glancing behind him once more as he spoke. It was draped over the top of his pack and bedroll, it having been too warm a day to wear it for the most part. He halted the horse, allowing her the freedom to reach round for it as she needed to without fear of falling off.

"Here."

"No, I meant for you. The night air is getting chill." He smiled as he said a word to the horse and it started off once more.

Penny thanked him gratefully and wrapped it round her shoulders, using both hands to draw it close under her chin while she bowed her head and leant forward a little into his back, waiting to warm up. She could hear his soft chuckle and grinned. She was dimly aware that the cloak smelt much like his tunic, of horse, pipe smoke and sweat, but not unpleasantly so, indeed there was something faintly comforting about it.

At last they stopped. Tonight they would be pitching tents by starlight. Fires were soon started but there was no cooked food this night. A simple meal of whatever dry stores were available sufficed.

Penny had found a great source of quiet comfort and support in Halladan's presence that day, particularly now that he knew all, even if the possibility that he might yet not be able to hold his peace unnerved her a little. However, her nervousness was not nearly what it might have been. She trusted him and his judgement absolutely. Whatever happened now, it would be a joint decision; no more flailing in the dark without a clue as to whether she was doing the right thing or not.

"How are you feeling? A little better?"

"Much warmer, thanks," Penny replied, as she laid Halladan's cloak on top of his pack. She came to stand next to him as he undid the large strap holding on the horse's saddle. He glanced at her.

"Actually, I mean about… what we discussed at Orthanc."

In the melee of unburdening the horses and the camp being set up, they could talk a little more freely than when on horseback, albeit momentarily.

"Oh. I… Yes, thank you, it did help to be…"

She could not quite think how to put it. Halladan smiled.

"Good. I am glad."

There was a pause during which time Halladan hefted the saddle off the horse. Penny waited till he had put it on the ground and he had turned back for the saddle blanket that she had taken off and folded.

"Gandalf knows."

He stopped and looked at her, brows furrowed in surprise.

"He… looked at me. Before we left. When we were making our way to the horses. I… cannot explain it, but he looked straight at me and I just knew he knew."

She quickly and briefly explained what had happened, murmuring low, both of them working on the bridle so as not to draw attention to themselves.

"It is no surprise," Halladan said quietly after a brief silence.

"Well, no, but…"

"Ah, there you are!"

It was Lindir. He had her saddlebags, having already settled Penny's mare for the night. Mireth was with him, ready to lead her off to find their tent. Arvain and Tadion were also ambling towards them from the opposite direction, urging Halladan to get a move on since Faelon had already disappeared off into the gloom with their tent and would need their help.

All opportunity to discuss things further was lost for the time being.

Penny said she would see them all later, thanked Lindir for bringing her stuff and let Mireth put her arm through hers and drag her off in the direction of where the first few tents could already be seen: dark shadows against the dark sky. As they walked Mireth was all friendly smiles but also had an air of motherly concern about her. Was Penny feeling well? She was quite sure? Only, for her to have ridden a good part of the day with Halladan…

Penny felt a little worried suddenly.

"Why, should I not have done?"

"No, no!"

Mireth sounded a little too breezy as she said it. Penny looked at her, but not in time to catch the glance and faintly discernable smile Mireth had thrown in her direction.

"He is your guardian and a friend, Pen-ii. Both Estel and the King of Rohan were most generous with their gifts and supplies, so many of the horses are laden as we travel even after these few weeks since we left Gondor. It is not so easy, perhaps, to find a free horse to ride and…," - she laughed softly - "I know you, Pen-ii: you would not ask for a horse even if you needed it. I am glad Halladan is doing his duty by you and keeping an eye on you. Besides, being at the Deep was difficult for you, was it not?" She spoke quietly and gently, patting Penny's forearm lightly. "With all that you have been carrying of late, it will take time to recover from it."

"With all that I have…?" Penny hoped she sounded more confused than alarmed.

"You have been missing your family; that much has been clear to me. I know you have also been worrying about Halladan and how he fares." She looked at her once more. "It might comfort you to know Lord Elrond feels he will make a full recovery in time."

Penny could not help the warm smile that spread across her face.

"Good. I am glad."

It seemed clear Mireth was determined to look after Penny for the evening. She was no fool and could see Penny had been very much out of sorts of late, and for Halladan to have taken charge of her as he had that day only seemed to spur Mireth on to making sure Penny was distracted and comforted by the presence of friends. Lindir was her partner in crime, and Penny did wonder if he had had a hand in it, not that Mireth would need much encouraging, it was true, and could just have likely come to the same conclusions and acted in the same entirely independently of him. Either way he was waiting for them when they came out of their tent, Celebdor with him, and they all headed off to the main elvish fire together, the three elves chattering away.

Of course, it was the last place Penny wanted to go to since she assumed it would be exactly the spot that she would find Elrond, Gandalf, Celeborn and whoever else might know of her story and have enough nouse to put two and two together. If it were not that she knew it would seem churlish and rude, she would have done anything to avoid it. Her nerves were calmed somewhat, however, when on scanning the throng on arrival she could see no sign of any of them. Then it occurred to her that they might well be 'in private conference,' discussing Saruman's disappearance and its possible significance, and the nerves flared back to their full height once more.

She ate what she could under Mireth's gentle, persistent persuasion, but it was clear to all it was something of an effort. She fought against her instinct to keep looking round to see if Gandalf or anyone else had arrived, knowing it would just draw attention to her nerves, but when she felt she could she surreptitiously would glance here and there as if in mere idle curiosity.

Still no sign. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Most had finished eating and a low song had started up at some distance to them when Celebdor spotted Halladan on his way towards them and hailed him. Arvain and Tadion were with him, though were somewhat distracted and dawdling as they looked this way and that for Naurdir in amongst the elves. As Halladan reached them he held out a book – Erestor's poetry.

"Here, Pen-ii, I forgot to give this to you earlier."

She took it, thanking him, as he came to sit down next to her. He did so heavily and blew out a long, heavy sigh. He caught Lindir raising a curious eyebrow at him.

"Do not ask, Lindir. Suffice it to say that Tadion is even more of a hindrance when putting up a tent by starlight than he is when we stop before sundown."

"Are you defaming me, cousin?" Tadion's cheeky grin met their laughter.

"All it needs is for him to start talking at the worst possible moment and forget what he should be doing," Halladan started to explain.

"Or worse yet, laugh at his own jokes, bend double and lose his grip on a rope," Arvain added as he joined them.

Tadion sniggered.

"It was not funny, Tadion."

Halladan sounded stern but even Penny could see the hint of a smile playing round his lips.

"Actually, brother, even you have to admit that you were laughing too hard to help Faelon extricate himself from underneath the canvas at first."

Lindir and Celebdor chuckled heartily at this.

"I did when it became clear he was having difficulties…"

"When the oaths became a little too loud and too raw for the sensitivities of any passing elf, you mean," retorted Arvain.

"Well, yes, that also." Halladan matched his grin.

"Ah, it was worth the invective he heaped on my head, though," Tadion said in a wistful tone, "even if it was entirely accidental on my part."

Arvain laughed and slapped his cousin on the back. "Come, Tadion, let us see if we can find Naurdir and plead for a spare keg of ale to take back to the others."

Halladan shook his head as he watched them wander off, laughing quietly to himself.

"Was Faelon very angry?" Penny asked.

"Yes. But he soon saw the funny side. That said, it all meant it took us twice as long as it needed to. Are you not going to eat that apple?"

"I do not think I can manage it, no. Please, have it."

Halladan took it, tossed it gently into the air a few inches and caught it neatly before taking a bite, watching Penny thoughtfully all the while.

"She has hardly eaten a thing," Mireth said.

"Oh?" Halladan raised an eyebrow.

"Do not fuss, Mireth." Penny smiled at her friend. "I am just tired from a long day's travel. That is all."

She glanced at Halladan and found him looking sympathetically at her, though his eyes were knowing. He looked away quickly to Mireth.

"Pen-ii did seem tired today," he said, backing up Penny as best he could.

"Ah," Lindir interrupted, "it would seem your cousin and brother have tracked down what they were looking for."

Halladan turned his head and laughed as he spotted them.

"That was quick!"

Arvain and Tadion were coming towards them, their wide grins visible in the firelight. Arvain had a medium-sized keg on one shoulder, and Tadion had two wine sacs. Halladan got to his feet.

"You are not staying?"

"I only came to bring you your book since I was not sure if you would be… HEY!"

Tadion had snatched his apple and taken a huge bite out of it. He now spoke while chewing noisily.

"Are you not going to join us this evening, Pen-ii? Faelon was wondering if he would see you. Halladan here was telling him Aragorn wants you to learn his mother's recipe for rabbit and venison stew. I think he is ready to give you chapter and verse on Morfinniel's cooking skills…"

"Give me that!" Halladan grabbed the apple back. Tadion made a noise of protest.

"Get on with you," Arvain intervened, gently shoving his cousin in the direct of the Dunedain fire some little way off behind a line of elvish tents. "Stop teasing Pen-ii. She will have time enough to learn whatever recipes Morfinniel sees fit to teach her, and learn them well I have no doubt."

"Oh, I never said she would not be capable, Arvain! Far from it, I say that when she feels ready, Pen-ii prepares a feast for us all with the very best of Dunedain fare and shows us what she has learned. We could invite everyone to it."

Penny choked into her wine cup and Lindir laughed out loud.

"Oh stop it, Tadion!" But you could see Mireth was trying not to laugh in spite of her protestations.

"Actually, now that you mention it, Tadion...," Arvain said slowly.

"…that is not a bad idea," Halladan finished for him.

Penny turned to look at them in horror. Then she saw the wide grins on the three men's faces. She laughed in spite of herself, and the others joined in.

Mireth and Lindir then took it on themselves to accept Tadion's offer on Penny's behalf, and they and Celebdor walked slowly with Halladan, Arvain and Tadion to where the Dunedain main fire was lit. Halladan had offered his hand to help Penny up and they ended up at the back of the party together.

"You need to eat, Pen-ii," he said quietly after a minute or so. "Travelling can be an exhausting business. All the more so on an empty stomach."

"I know. I do what I can, Halladan, but after today…"

"I understand. It needed to be said, though."

He looked at her and smiled gently, though perhaps the reminder of the day's events, or what he had learned as a consequence, meant it was a little forced. He turned away, his expression serious.

When they reached the fire several of the men were in full song, Faelon among them. It was a ballad filled with stories of derring-do perpetrated by ancient ancestors. The sort who apparently (if legend was to be believed) would happily throttle trolls bare-handed in their sleep and dive into orc-holds armed with nothing more than a small knife and emerge bloodied but victorious on a regular basis. Of course Aragorn had done something not too dissimilar when he had braved Moria alone so many years before, but then Aragorn more or less _was_ a walking, living legend, and it was pretty clear that all this was in his honour (if '_in absentia_').

"Ah, I am sorry to have said farewell to him," Faelon said at one point, "but we shall see him again soon enough, and at least we can now face north, head for home."

Penny studiously avoided Halladan's gaze and said nothing.

"I have to admit I have missed home," Arvain muttered. "And the further we travel, the nearer we get, the more keenly I feel it somehow."

There were murmurs of assent all round him, and a heavy atmosphere seemed to settle round the fire briefly. Lindir, in an attempt to break the mood before it could take hold, started up yet another song about the North, this time about the generic ranger riding forth, sword on his hip, bow on his back, to protect kith, kin and all those within his domain. It was clearly a popular choice – there was much hearty joining in on the chorus, and Tadion cracked open the keg of ale Naurdir had given them.

There were many tales told of Aragorn that night, with men recounting anecdotes of shared battles or else more personal, private moments – when he had perhaps visited family or had shared a quiet evening round a fire in the wilds somewhere. It was little surprise, then, that several of the elves from Imladris who came to join them for a while then stayed to add their own stories to the whole: of a young Aragorn being rescued from tall trees by Elrohir or being taught to fire a bow while riding at speed by… well, it seemed several ellyn laid claim to having taught him various such skills.

Not too long after Penny and the others had arrived, Frodo and Merry appeared (much to Penny's discomfort given she was constantly waiting for Gandalf's hand to fall upon her shoulder at any second), and they too chipped in with moments from their travels with Aragorn. Everyone fell silent when Merry related the battle with the Nazgul on Amôn Sul. He stood up to do so and used great arm gestures and facial expressions (quite the actor, it seemed). He was going great guns until he got to the part when Frodo was stabbed, then faltered and glanced guiltily at him. But Frodo simply waved at him to finish his tale, smiling as best he could and trying to reassure his friend that no harm was done, that he was fine with it being told in full. There was a clear tension round his eyes, though, and he was a little quiet afterwards.

Nor was he the only one. Penny found the chatter and song distracting, yes, but it could not completely cover the tension within her which only seemed to get worse as time went on and there was no sign of Gandalf or anyone else. Halladan too, for all he was smiling and laughing gently with the other Dunedain, was more subdued than he had been the previous night. Nothing out of the ordinary, perhaps, especially given how he had been of late, but Penny could tell he was still brooding over what she had told him that afternoon. That he seemed to become that much more withdrawn and less inclined to laughter once the hobbits had arrived only seemed to confirm it. Nor could she blame him in the least.

Barely five minutes or so after the hobbits had arrived, Penny had felt she really could not cope with it and had to leave. She had barely made any movement, however, when she felt Halladan's hand upon her arm. She glanced at him and he shook his head, only once and so slight a movement that no one else would have observed it. Better to stay in spite of how it made her feel, apparently, and, in a strange way, to know it was someone else's decision, that her instinctive reaction had been corrected by someone who fully understood her position, someone who more than likely felt much the same as she did, helped her to deal with it, to grit her teeth and bear it.

In that brief moment when he had hold of her arm and she had looked at him, some silent understanding had passed between them: he acknowledging her nervous anxiety and she recognising his troubled brooding. Together they would stick it out but now was not the time to leave.

"Wait a while," he murmured softly enough that only she could hear it. She nodded once, staring straight ahead into the fire.

Of course, no sooner had Merry finished his tale, than Gandalf appeared with Pippin, Sam, Elrohir and Glorfindel. Penny did not need Halladan's hand on her arm this time – for all she wanted to run screaming she knew it would be exactly the wrong thing to do. She glanced at Halladan to find he had glanced at her. He forced a smile at her and then, spotting Tadion getting to his feet, wondered out loud if Penny would like some more wine. She, glad for the momentary distraction, said that would be most kind and Halladan handed Tadion her cup, giving her another reassuring sort of smile (which had nothing whatsoever to do with the wine) as he did so.

Gandalf, of course, had plenty of stories to tell about Aragorn from the times when they had travelled together: times when they had run into 'a few orcs' in a mountain pass here or a troll or three on a mountain pass there. He spoke of Aragorn's adventures in the south as well as of various feats of skill, diplomacy or fighting prowess he had displayed as a young man in Gondor and Rohan – all things that Aragorn himself would rarely have spoken of out of modesty, but Gandalf felt he could relate with impunity as an old friend amongst friends who loved Aragorn as much as he did.

Looking back, Penny was never quite sure how the conversation had turned as it had. She had been lost in her thoughts for some minutes, gazing into the flickering flames, and then Faelon's question had filtered through to her and it had taken all her strength of will not to gasp out loud.

"So, then, Gandalf, what do you make of it?"

"Hmm?"

"This snake in the grass leaving so suddenly and discourteously without waiting to speak to The King Returned?"

There were a few quiet snickers and chuckles at that.

"What do I make of it? Why nothing much more than he could not bear to look us in the eye, would rather flee the company of the great and good than have to face the weight of his own downfall."

Penny, glancing as unobtrusively as she could towards Halladan (which involved not lifting her head and thus she could not see his face), could see he was nearly as tense as she was.

"Where do you think he has gone?"

Sam asked in Westron but Penny could get the gist of it. The wave of guilt that hit her made her stomach ache.

"Who can say, Ban? He could be anywhere."

"Still, it is a pity he was not there to meet us," Faelon repeated.

"It is indeed. It is to be regretted, Faelon, old friend, but what is done is done. Besides, we shall meet again ere long."

"You think so?"

"I do indeed, Maura. I know so. I can feel it deep within me, and I knew it to be so even when I left him last. Of course, then I assumed it would be when I next travelled to Orthanc. Now I know it will be elsewhere, though it will not be long coming."

Penny wondered if Halladan was trying as hard not to look at her as she was to not look at him.

"You did not really mean what you said, did you, though? About the snake still having one tooth?"

"Kali, Mithrandir never speaks lightly and always with insight and great wisdom. You know that."

"Now, now, Elrohir, it was a fair question."

Penny looked up to find Gandalf turning to Merry with a smile, though his eyes were serious.

"Yes, Kali, I did indeed mean what I said. You must remember that Saruman was a great and powerful wizard once. His power, while diminished, is not wholly depleted. Some part of it, however small, will remain forever for as long as he walks this earth."

"But he is but a shadow of his former self. You said so yourself…"

"That is true, but…" Gandalf sighed heavily for a moment and it seemed that everyone round the fire had fallen still and silent, waiting on the wisest of the wise to say his piece. "I have a clearer memory these days, now that I am 'The White.' It is hard for me to say these words and yet I can see things that much clearly now, comparing what he was to what he became. He was always arrogant and always jealous. These are things that, if allowed to fester, make for a truly bitter, spiteful heart."

Did those huge eyebrows just flicker in her direction?

"Everyone has choices in their life. One can choose to act, or not to act, and if one chooses to act then the manner of one's action is also of one's own choice. One can only look ahead, as best one can, down the path that lies ahead of one action or another and see where, if you so choose, your life might lead you. Some have not the vision to be able to do so. They are bereft of wisdom or insight. Others have foresight or can at least make balanced assumptions and near guesses on what results an action might bring. However, the greater the person, in and of themselves, and the greater their very being, then the better able they should be to see ahead. Thus their mistakes or wrong turns are that much less forgivable."

"Then Treebeard was wrong to let him go."

Penny was amazed at how calm and matter-of-fact Halladan sounded. Gandalf just looked at him levelly for a moment as if assessing his statement. To anyone else it might seem a completely innocent action, but Penny wondered if he knew or had guessed that she had spoken to Halladan. It would not surprise her in the least if he did, she realised.

"No, I would not say that. It was unfortunate, perhaps, and I stand by my assertion that it shows even Treebeard himself was perhaps persuaded by Saruman's voice in the end, but as I said just now, what is done is done and perhaps that is as it should be. We are destined to meet. It may be he knows it also and that is why he was so desperate to flee before we could face each other once more. However, he must be given every chance to make his own path. He has his choices ahead of him, just as we all do, and he has the capability to see far ahead as to what the consequences would be of whatever choices he makes… if his spite has not blinded him utterly. No, even when we meet I shall allow him to go on his way if that is what he chooses to do."

"If it were up to me…," growled Sam.

"No, Ban, Gandalf is right. There is always that possibility that he might repent. True strength in victory is in showing mercy and compassion to those you have defeated."

"Only if they deserve it, Maura," Faelon added quietly.

"But who are we to judge?" Frodo replied. "I know if I were to meet him tomorrow, I would let him go on his way. To grind him underfoot when he has been brought so low? Why, it would be to put ourselves on the same level as he, to act just as he would have done!"

"Well said, Maura," Gandalf murmured. "Well said indeed. And that gentleness of spirit will hurt him more than any harsh word. It will burn into his conscience in spite of his stopping his ears to it. That is why he fears meeting me again. He fears my mercy."

"But if he is truly capable of mischief or worse, Gandalf…," Faelon began.

"Then he shall find what lies at the end of that path, Faelon. I will not do anything other than allow him to choose the way he wishes to take. I will give him all the rope he chooses to take from me, even if he hangs himself in the process."

There was no mistaking it then. Even as he smiled thinly at Faelon and turned his head to take a sip of wine, those bright, wise eyes met with hers. It was only for an instant, but it was enough. His gaze said, 'I know we understand one another. What will be will be. So be it.,' She was still staring at him even after he had turned away, almost feeling as if she was on the verge of tears as something swelled within her. Not relief. No, it was not as clear as that. It was nearer to what she had felt after she had spoken of it all to Halladan: the comfort of a burden shared and that her position was understood. It did not make the pain go away, but it deadened it a little and gave her strength enough to bear it.

Her thoughts were in turmoil for some time even as the conversation back onto 'Tales of Aragorn That We Know And Love' and Arvain had to ask her twice if she wanted more wine. In the end it was Halladan once more laying a hand on her arm and saying her name that broke through her reverie. The look he gave her, intense and knowing, told her he was as thrown by it all as she was: understanding the significance of Gandalf's words but without yet having had time to process them properly.

Arvain asked a third time if she would like a drink and she accepted but insisted she be the one to get it.

"I could do with stretching my legs a little."

Halladan said it was a good idea and he would help, turning to collect cups and tankards from any nearby who wanted a refill, including Arvain himself.

They wandered away from the fire into the gloom and crouched down together beside the ale butt and wine skins. Only then did they finally look at each other. Penny opened her mouth to speak by Halladan cut across her.

"Gandalf is wise beyond reckoning, Pen-ii. As hard as this is for me to accept, I will abide by his reasoning… for the time being. I think you should also."

She nodded, though a little worried by what 'for the time being' might suggest.

"Any more ale left?"

It was Tadion.

"Yes, cousin, have no fear."

Halladan rolled his eyes and shook his head at Penny, making her smile.

"I have persuaded Faelon to sing once more," Tadion replied, bending to fill his tankard. "All this talk of Saruman has soured the evening somewhat. We will have time enough to wonder about his fate on horseback tomorrow. Tonight I say we toast our King and drink to our heading for home at last!" Tadion had stood up once more and turned back to the fire to throw this last exclamation loudly back at the assembled group. "Am I not right?!" he roared, lifting up his tankard. He was met with loud shouts of approval and laughter.

And so Penny allowed herself to be swayed by Halladan's judgement. Or rather, allowed herself to relax as a consequence of his being swayed by Gandalf's argument. That Gandalf did not stay too long at the fire after that probably helped a little, it was true. That he quite deliberately came over to Penny before he left to bid her goodnight and to ask after her health, all smiling, grandfatherly concern and no hint of anything else, helped all the more. When she said she was quite well, thank you, if tired after the day's travelling, he nodded.

"Yes, well, let Halladan here look after you for a little while. You have looked after him these past few weeks, so it is his turn to return the favour, I suspect."

"Do not worry, Gandalf, I intend to," Halladan cut in with a grin.

"Good lad, good lad."

And with that he was off.

The mood round the fire, fuelled by yet another barrel of ale that appeared from somewhere, was infectious and the laughter and song grew louder and more boisterous with every moment. Even the hobbits, clearly at home in this sort of atmosphere, joined in, with all four singing a rather jolly song that was also a dance tune back in the Shire. Merry and Sam showed Glorfindel and Lindir the steps. The image of two tall, willowy ellyn, skipping and do-si-do-ing in the moonlight with two small hobbits even gave Penny a fit of the giggles. Especially because the serious look of concentration on Glorfindel's face as he stared at Sam's feet and attempted to copy him at the same time was priceless.

It was fairly obvious Tadion was drinking far too deeply into his cups (though, in fairness, he was not the only one). Halladan muttered something about his missing the pipeweed more than most. Penny was mid-snigger in response to this when Tadion suddenly turned to her and asked her for a song.

"You are a quiet one, Pen-ii, and I feel there must be more to you hidden away if you would only share it with us."

His smile was beaming (if a little wobbly) and his gaze warm (if a little unfocused) and his request was quickly taken up by the others near him, Arvain crying it was a fine idea and Faelon gently smiling and saying it would indeed make a pleasant change to hear something from her people. Penny found even Halladan was grinning at her in an encouraging sort of way.

"_Et tu, Brute_?" she muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing… um… I am not sure I can think of anything that would be appropriate for…"

"Nonsense!" Tadion roared, waving his tankard at her so violently that half its contents spilt all over Celebdor's leggings.

"Argh! Mind out, would you?!" Celebdor was on his feet and wiping at his britches within seconds. Tadion ignored him, or perhaps had not even noticed.

"If you can sing for the Rohirrim then, by Morgoth's backside, you can damn well sing for us!" He laughed heartily as he said this.

"Tadion!" Faelon said in a warning voice and Halladan glared hard at his cousin. Arvain was trying to smother his sniggering by coughing into his hand and looking off to his left somewhere, though he caught Lindir's eye as he did so which evidently did not help matters.

"Eh?" Tadion clearly had not even realised the drink had loosened up his tongue. "Oh. Ah. My apologies, Pen-ii." He glanced at her and coughed. "I was jus' sayin'… Too long amongst the company of warriors…"

He carried on muttering vague explanations into his tankard, looked suitably chastened and had another sip of ale to console himself.

With well over half the fire, including the hobbits, smiling at her and making 'Yes, why not? Go on!' noises, Penny realised she had little choice and thus fell back on one from the shortlist she had been forming over the past couple of months. It was an old folksong her grandfather had sung quite a bit. He had been into that sort of music and had often played some in the house when she and her brother had stayed with her grandparents after school, and this particular song was one he had often hummed snatches of to himself as he had bustled about the house making them toast or helping them with homework. She had had to make up the odd line here or there to get it complete in her head, but otherwise she was fairly certain of about four verses of it, and it had the right sort of tune. Certainly it went down very well and she could breathe easy once more.

It was really very late when at last she felt tiredness crashing in on her and decided to call it a night. Halladan offered to walk her to her tent, and the two ambled off together into the darkness. At least they finally had the opportunity to talk for a little while, even if only in low murmurs.

"I still worry I have burdened you with what I told you today."

"It was my choice, Pen-ii. I insisted you tell me. I will not pretend it has not occupied my thoughts since then." He sighed. "Foreknowledge can be a heavy burden to bear. I have told you that before. I will admit that Gandalf's words this evening eased my heart somewhat. I am still not sure he should not be told, but," he held up his hand to stop her interrupting as he continued, "_but_ far less convinced of it than I was. It would not surprise me in the least if he can guess at the truth or even has some foreknowledge. Would he think differently if he knew for certain? Who can say, but if he did, it would only be because of the place Suza has in his heart."

"Exactly."

Penny sighed heavily. Suddenly she was feeling upset once more, and this evening had been such a wonderful diversion that she had genuinely escaped her emotions for a little while.

"Now see here." Halladan suddenly stopped and placed both hands on her shoulders as he brought her to face him. "With what you argued this afternoon and what Gandalf has said this evening, then I think it best that we allow things to continue on their course at least for the time being. After all, even after we meet Saruman on the road it will not be too late for us to ride after him and stop him ever reaching Suza if Gandalf so decides. Both you and I have enough to deal with at the moment without worrying about such things at least for a few days."

"But…"

"Pen-ii," he said firmly, "there comes a time when you have to accept your limitations. You allowed me to take responsibility for this this afternoon, and I have allowed myself to rely on Gandalf's reasoning. Let that be enough for you if you can." He paused. "Allow yourself the time you need to grieve. Do not get distracted and bottle it all up inside you once more. I am one to talk, perhaps, but you know I am right. Do not feel obliged to be sociable. Take advantage of the understanding of friends around you and sit in solitude if you need to, or talk to whoever might distract you or help you… Do whatever it might take." He smiled. "I would have you back to your old self, Pen-ii, if you are willing."

She smiled in return.

"Only if you promise the same for me, Halladan."

He nodded, his smile broadening slowly.

"Gladly."

* * *

Author's Notes:

Do not ask me to name the song she sang. If I name any one of the various possibilities in my head it would only serve to baffle those who'd never heard of it. Which song it was is not important, really, suffice it to say it was the sort of thing that any folk band might sing, such as The Corries for example. You can look them up online if you want – and there are clips of their stuff on YouTube. Look out for Come O'er The Stream, Charlie and The Massacre of Glencoe in particular which I know are up on there – they'll both give you an idea of the sort of thing I was thinking of.

After the last chapter someone asked me to explain what the Elendilmir was. I might as well explain the Elfstone as well while I'm here too, since they are both sort of linked in that they were both emblems of Aragorn's kingship, but neither appear in the films so if you don't know the books this is for you. The Elendelmir was, basically, a gemstone worn on the forehead. It was Numenorean and worn by the Kings of Gondor and Arnor. Thus it was, of course, being worn by Isildur when he was killed by the orcs while wearing the ring (he had to wear his hood up since the power of invisibility that the ring conferred on the one wearing it did not work on the gemstone, which still shone out bright like a star – see Unfinished Tales). Hence the significance of Penny saying Saruman had the original (i.e. thus meaning he had found the remains of Isildur as well as the implication that he had been looking for the Ring with the remains). When the original was lost, a copy was made that was then handed down, along with the remains of the shattered blade of Narsil, to every heir and Chieftain of the Dunedain as a symbol of Kingship.

The Elfstone has a strange history. It was given to Aragorn by Galadriel when he's in Lothlorien with the Fellowship – it's his gift when the others receive theirs from her – and there are two versions of its history and JRRT never decided which was the one he wanted. The first is that it is the same stone made by craftsmen in the ancient elven city/realm of Gondolin, taken to the West by those who had sailed, but brought back by Gandalf who gave it to Galadriel so that she might one day give it to the King-to-be. The second is that it is a copy of a stone made in Gondolin, made by Celebrimbor (the same elf who made the rings of power under Sauron's tutelage) as a token of his (unrequited) love for Galadriel. She then gives it to Aragorn as part of the ritual regarding betrothal/marriage – a gift is given to each party by the other's parent. She was standing in Celebrian's stead, basically.

If you're ever unsure on details like this a good online source of information is Encylopedia of Arda. :)

I can't apologise enough for the length of time this chapter has taken. RL means writing time has been severely limited for a while and added to which the muses were being particularly difficult about this chapter – about the most difficult they've yet been in some ways for this fic (and I thought writing Galadriel had been bad!).

My sincere thanks and appreciation to everyone still reading this fic, still waiting for new chapters, and to those who leave reviews, comments and get in touch. I do try and get chapters done as fast as constraints allow, but such is life. If ever anything meant there was a really long delay – an indefinite hiatus – then I would say so: on my profile and on my LJ. If you ever want to know 'where I'm at' with a chapter, then swing by my LiveJournal as I do say what's what on there from time to time. The way things stand, don't expect more than a chapter a month, and possibly longer than that. Sorry!


	51. Stop The World

**Chapter 51** – _"Stop The World (I Wanna Get Off)"_

It was an early start, and a cold one, the next morning. Dawn had barely broken when Penny awoke at Mireth's gentle insistence. Outside a soft peach glow was only just visible through the mists above the eastern tree line and the encampment was shrouded in a dusky half-light.

After the slight 'high' of the night before, Penny awoke feeling low and out of sorts, but she could not blame how she was feeling on tiredness; the late night and general merriment had left her so exhausted she had slept like a log. Mireth could see it in her, despite Penny smiling and responding to all conversation pleasantly enough as they washed and dressed. As Penny bent to pick up her saddlebags ready to go and find breakfast, Mireth stayed her and hugged her.

"What was that for?"

"Oh, nothing. I just felt you might need it this morning, is all."

Breakfast was not the leisurely affair it usually was. There was a sense of bustle and business about the place, with people grabbing fruit or cured meat from the stores and eating it where they stood or else taking it back to their tents (if they were not already dismantled). All round the camp awnings were fast disappearing while packs and stores were already being loaded onto horses; everything spoke of a hurry to get going. For all it was considered highly unlikely they would have any trouble from the Dunlendings, no one was taking any chances and all were agreed that the sooner they could pass through their territory, the happier everyone would be.

Penny ate in silence, her mood flat and somewhat numb. The lack of a quiet communal morning meal did not help, nor the grey skies that spoke of coming rain. Nor was she the only one who was somewhat subdued. Leaving Legolas, Gimli and, most especially, Aragorn behind them the previous day had been quite emotional for the hobbits given all that they had been through together and the length of time they had been in their company. It had not been only Penny who had both appreciated the previous night's light-heartedness and allowed herself to get carried away with the mood for a couple of hours. In the cold, grey dawn the laughter and song seemed a million miles away with all the hurried, quiet activity around them.

Penny was grateful, then, when Frodo was insistent that they had time for a cup of tea in spite of her mixed feelings about being in their company at the moment. As she had got herself ready for bed the previous night, she had silently resolved to follow Halladan's lead from earlier that evening when he had stopped her from leaving the fireside the moment the hobbits had arrived and to do her best to make an effort in that regard. After all, she had managed in a far worse situation with Halbarad; at least in this case she knew that what the hobbits would go through would end in much that would be of benefit. That and they had always shown her honest kindness and warm friendship.

"I fear this might be one of our last pots of tea for a while," Frodo said sadly as he inspected the jar. "Enough for one more, perhaps, but even that will likely be a weak one."

"Well, we are on our way north at last," Sam replied. "Come Imladris, come tea."

"And Bilba," Pippin added. "It will be so good to see him, to tell him all we have been through."

Frodo smiled warmly. "It will not take us too long either, so Faelon tells me. We will be travelling at a far slower pace than when they came south, admittedly, but it will be but a few more weeks and we can have tea every day once more. Twice a day, indeed!"

"Pipeweed," Sam murmured wistfully. "And potatoes."

"Kali and I still have one small pouch of the stuff from Orthanc, Ban…"

"Yes, but I thought we agreed we would eke that out for as long as possible, Raz," Frodo interrupted.

"Exactly," Sam chimed in. "What I am talking about is a proper supply of the stuff without worrying about how much you smoke and when."

"Well, the sooner we pass through this land that lies ahead of us the better as far as I am concerned," Merry muttered darkly to no one in particular.

Penny, catching most of his meaning even though it was in Westron, cast him a sympathetic look, though perhaps not nearly as sympathetic and open as that which Pippin and the others gave him. Merry, just as Pippin had done with the Gondorians, had entirely taken Rohirric sensibilities about such things to heart. Penny did not doubt for a moment that if anything were to happen as they passed through the Dunlending's land, Merry would be at the forefront of any fighting to be had, be he surrounded by warrior ellyn and Dunedain or no, such was the strength of feeling with which he had just spoken.

Yes, these were hardier hobbits than those that had left the Shire so many months before.

Merry's words had darkened the mood once more, albeit unwittingly. The tea helped, but as everyone busied themselves with this and that, Penny and the four hobbits sat in near silence once more, saying little but at least appreciating the moment of stillness, a hot brew and friendly company. Even so, Penny did not stay overlong, muttering something about needing to ready her horse and thankful to look up at that moment and spot Tadion passing nearby. She grabbed her saddlebags and hurried over to him, asking him if he happened to have seen Lindir and whether he might know if her horse was ready or if she needed to fetch the saddle and bridle herself.

Tadion offered to come with her to find her horse. He too was quiet: wincing whenever they passed by a group of people where the laughter was a little too loud or if someone called out too close by. On one such occasion, Tadion gave a loud, exasperated sigh and turned to the ellon in question to ask why it was necessary to 'yell loud enough to stir Melkor himself' if elven hearing was as delicate as they always claimed. The ellon, who Penny recognised as one of the Galadhrim, seemed somewhat startled by Tadion's brusque manner, but Tadion did not wait to hear what response (if any) might be forthcoming and walked off briskly, clutching at his forehead as if regretting having spoken so loudly himself. He glanced sideways and caught Penny raising her eyebrows at him, a smirk on her lips.

"Do not say a word," he ground out slowly through gritted teeth.

Penny could not help the snigger that escaped her. He rolled his eyes.

"As bad as Halladan," he muttered.

"Oh?"

"My cousin has a poor taste in humour," Tadion explained wearily.

Penny smiled, amused. "Does he indeed?"

Then she remembered Arvain's complaints in Rohan when he had been hungover and Tadion had woken him early with loud singing. She reminded Tadion of his fact and his only response was to look at her with an expression of mild irritation that said 'not you as well.' Penny laughed.

"Ah, Pen-ii, mocking the afflicted, I trust?"

Halladan had a broad grin on his face, the grin of a man who does not have a roaring headache but knows one who does. Tadion opened his mouth to say something in response, but Halladan raised a hand and an eyebrow.

"Now, now, Tadion. There are ladies present." He glanced at Penny conspiratorially, still grinning, and there was the momentary hint of a wink.

Tadion narrowed his eyes at him.

Halladan had stepped over to them a little way, having spotted them through the crowd. He too had come to find Lindir and Penny's horse once he had saddled his own and had been chatting quietly to Lindir, Elladan and Glorfindel as he awaited her arrival. Tadion handed her over to them all, endured a few jibes about feeling the worse for a tankard too many the night before with, it had to be said, remarkably good grace and then wandered back to find his pack and his own horse (before he finally cracked under the strain and throttled Halladan). As Penny had suspected, Lindir had readied her horse for her, so she had little to do bar strap on her saddle bags.

As she did exactly that she was faintly aware that the other four, all horsed and waiting for the off, had fallen silent even though they had been deep in conversation when she had arrived. When she had hauled herself into the saddle and got herself upright she looked over to them, only for Elladan in that same instant to happen to turn and say something to Glorfindel and Lindir reply, the three of them falling into an easy conversation too quiet for her to hear. She had the distinct impression they had been watching her, though; not intently, perhaps, but certainly enough to make her wonder if she had possibly been the topic of conversation just prior to her arrival. Indeed Halladan had not been quite so quick off the mark as the three ellyn and thus she caught his eye before he could turn his head and pretend to be looking at something else entirely. He gave her a friendly smile instead and a nod of his head. His reaction made her think that whatever might be going on, it was nothing she should be worried about. Or so she hoped, at least.

The sun had still to rise fully above the trees when the train got underway a little while later, and even when it finally did so, it was greeted with a fine drizzle that within a few hours had turned into a steady, light rain. Penny pulled the cowl of Mireth's spare cloak as far forward as it would go and contemplated how wet her ankles were getting. The weather scarcely helped her mood, and it also meant that gentle banter and chatter amongst the company was somewhat diminished. For the most part all that could be heard all morning above the sound of the soft thuds of horses' hooves, the occasional snort of an animal and the gentle patter of rain against leather or leaf was elvish song from this or that part of the train.

There was also a certain level of watchfulness and wariness about that Penny recognised as being similar to when they had crossed the mountains on their way south. Just as on that occasion, various members of the company rode on either side of the train, looking here and there every now and then and very obviously 'on guard'. All the Dunedain were involved in this. Penny got the feeling that being 'at leisure' for too long a period was somewhat alien to the Dunedain male psyche, and to be doing something at last was relished by them all. That and it would have been unthinkable for them to allow themselves to ride idly by while others were on lookout around them. They worked in shifts – about half the men working as outriders and lookouts during the morning and the rest taking the afternoon. Halladan was on the afternoon shift, as was Tadion (a concession, no doubt, to his really needing to recover a bit more before he would be in any fit state), but Penny did not see Arvain or Faelon till they stopped for lunch since they were somewhere down near the rearguard for the morning.

As much as Penny's levels of anxiety were less than the day before (though far from diminished completely), the wave of something other - be it grief, exhaustion or a mixture of both - had rolled back over her to fill the gap last night's relative reassurance had left. That she was surrounded by a train that was in good spirits but nevertheless quiet and also in a state of, frankly, high alert did not really help matters for all her brain might tell her that nothing was going to happen.

Within some hours of setting off, they had passed between the foothills at the ends of both mountain ranges – the Gap of Rohan itself – thus by the time they stopped for a brief lunch they were already within the Dunlendings' territory. By early afternoon the rain had eased off enough back to a drizzle so that even Penny could make out the clumps of houses signifying hamlets or farmsteads high on hills in the distance that they occasionally passed by.

Weirdly, the fact that there was no sign of any Dunlendings all day did not really help to ease tensions among the company, since that could only mean that they were hiding themselves away. That they should be so fearful, suspicious or even considered the elves and Dunedain a threat was hardly a positive in their favour, even if it was exactly the behaviour that had been expected of them.

No smoke could be seen from any chimney whenever they came within sight of a dwelling (though they deliberately kept a certain distance at all times), nor child or worker in any field. There were no animals grazing, no horses nor even a dog running wild. To the casual, disinterested observer it might have seemed as if the land was uninhabited and the dwellings deserted, yet even Penny had the distinct impression that was not the case. Rather, it was as if word of their travelling was passing on ahead of them and everything was being done to make it appear as if there was no one to attack nor anything that might be pillaged (since no doubt the Dunlendings would not think anything but ill of them and suspect either scenario - or both - was possible if not highly likely).

Only once, late in the afternoon, did several of the outriders, all ellyn with their keen eyesight, say they saw a solitary watcher high on a hill near the edge of a wooded area, and he dived under the cover of the trees and the safety of their darkness pretty quickly, almost in fear or so it seemed.

"They lost a large number of their menfolk in the battle of the Deep, do not forget," it was said round the fires that night. "There will have been many women left to fend for themselves and with small children to boot. To have such a large group of those considered in league with their enemies, or on the side of the victors at least, will be a matter of some alarm. They do not have the strength to attack, and it will perhaps be a lesson for them to see us pass through their land and leave them unmolested and in peace. We shall not trouble them and they will not trouble us. It is better that way."

Even so, the watch was double strength round the camp that night.

At least the drizzle had finally stopped by the time they set up camp. Once more they travelled until dusk and by the time the tents were up and everyone settled night had truly set in. Of course, damp conditions did not mean there were no fires – basic woodsman's skills were no match for such things – and besides which they camped within the shade of trees, so the ground was not too wet underfoot. Even so most lit small campfires well back under the trees and sat in groups round about them.

Penny did her best to be sociable and interact, glad to have a fire to warm her a little and rid her of the pervasive sense of 'damp' she had had all day. However, in spite of thawing out a little she still felt… well, it was hard to describe. 'Low' covered it but did not really do it justice. It was as if the stress and strain of all she had been carrying psychologically for the past couple of months had finally just left her numb, weary and listless. The grief which had returned now she was (moderately) less concerned about the hobbits and had let Halladan take on that responsibility for her was not as raw as it had felt even some days ago, but the nature of it had changed. Rather than grinding pain at the loss, at the enormity and finality of it all, she plain missed them: her family, friends, even everything that made twenty-first-century living what it was. It was something that had been niggling away at her all day as she had sat in the saddle, listening to the never ending pitter-patter of the rain, and it had only been when she had realised she was wishing it would all just _stop_, that she could be warm and dry and comfortable that she finally twigged: she was homesick.

As the afternoon had worn on, it had just become all the more glaring. She was sick of travelling, sick of the sight of horseshit, sick of never having a decent night's sleep (be it through nightmares or sleeping on nothing but a bedroll), sick of being saddlesore, footsore or simply plain exhausted. She felt if she had to eat another bowl of vegetable stew she was likely to throw it at Naurdir. She was tired of speaking in Sindarin even if it was slowly becoming second nature to her – after all she knew her vocabulary was far from complete and there were still moments when she felt she was expressing herself poorly or in a manner that was not quite 'her', more stilted, less flowing than if she had been speaking English.

And once she had started to notice all these things about herself, her situation and how she was feeling, try as she might it was impossible to hold it back. Tiredness did not help and she was indeed tired: mentally as well as from a long day's travelling and an early start.

That the nature of her mood had changed subtly did not go unnoticed. In comparison to the last few days she was not jumpy, nervous, desperate to be alone or else clearly distressed and trying to cover it. She responded well enough if someone spoke to her, smiled in thanks when Rhimlath pressed a drink on her, but it was all a bit half-hearted, as if she had not the energy to fully engage, as if, truth be told, she wanted to be elsewhere.

Mireth sat close to her that evening, including her in the talk from time to time, but otherwise just providing company for her as well as making herself a foil to anyone else who might try to chat to Penny if she seemed elsewhere with her thoughts. Little did Penny realise it, but in some ways Mireth was behaving in much the same way that Arvain and Faelon had done with Halladan in the week or so before they had arrived at Edoras. Once more Lindir was her partner in crime, though he did head off to be sociable at the elvish fires after a while. Neither did Penny notice that a little while after Lindir had left Glorfindel came to join them and sit beside Mireth, nor that when he in turn went to socialise at the other fires Elladan paid them a visit soon afterwards.

More than one person was in cahoots with Mireth, it seemed.

Arvain and Tadion were on first watch and thus had disappeared almost as soon as camp had been set up. They had food taken out to wherever they were positioned. Faelon and Halladan, having been on duty all afternoon, were to take later watches. Faelon, knowing he would have to be up some hours before dawn, headed off to get some sleep soon after the simple meal of dry stores, but Halladan was on second watch and decided he might as well stay up till then and sleep afterwards.

As much as it was true that Penny had unburdened herself somewhat by telling him all, it also meant Halladan had more to think about. The past few nights had been eventful in one way or another with much to occupy him, but this was a calm, quiet evening much like any other on their travels, and thus it was perhaps inevitable that there be something of the 'old Halladan' about him as a consequence, as if he could not quite still his thoughts. Had he been able to chew on the end of a pipe it might have helped, but as it was he had nothing but a tankard of ale and that he had to make last as long as possible since he needed to be on sharp form for his later watch. Nor could the gentle songs and stories provide him with complete ease and distraction. It said much that even Penny was stirred out of her silent contemplation to comment on his restlessness during a moment when Mireth had taken both their cups to refill them and Elladan was busily chatting with several of the Dunedain nearby.

Halladan was yet again readjusting his sitting position.

"Halladan, is anything amiss?"

He looked at her, and sighed through a rueful smile.

"I could ask the same of you, I suspect. No, nothing is amiss but…" Another sigh. "Would you care to walk for a short while, perhaps? I would welcome the distraction. I find I cannot sit still, and my leg could do with the exercise. It was a long day in the saddle."

Having learnt some time ago she could be at her ease with Halladan, that he would ask no questions and let her be, Penny was happy to oblige and, indicating to Mireth she was heading off for a walk for a while (and Mireth happy enough to see it was Halladan keeping her company to raise no objection in the slightest), they ambled off side by side.

They did not go terribly far, merely beyond the edge of the trees and out under the stars. After a grey day it was now a clear sky, chill and with a slight breeze. Halladan was concerned Penny might get cold so they made their way to her tent so she could collect a shawl to wrap about her, and then they continued their walk, following the edge of the trees, leaving the encampment behind them but still with the odd glimpse of a campfire visible through the tree trunks every now and then. They did not talk, both lost in their own thoughts as they wandered at a leisurely pace, Halladan with his stick but leaning on it far less than he was wont to.

At last Halladan, looking up at the moon, muttered something about how they had better head back since it would be his turn for the watch soon and she had best get some rest. It would be another early start and long day's travelling on the morrow, he reminded her. The mere mention of it had Penny giving a long, weary sigh, without even realising, as she agreed with him. Halladan glanced sideways at her as she did so, his gaze sharp, but he said nothing.

On their way back to the tents, Halladan caught sight of something in the darkness of the trees and stepped forward to investigate. Quite what he could make out in the near gloom, Penny had no idea, but then he did have the advantage of the keener eyesight of a Dunadan. After a bit of rummaging in the undergrowth, aided by much poking with his stick, Halladan bent down and picked something up, then headed back to join her. She could see his smile was wide enough that his teeth showed in the starlight. She raised her eyebrows in both amusement and bafflement, intrigued. He held up a piece of deadwood, a moderately thick branch, not too long, that was dry, but had not been overly long on the ground and was still relatively 'green.'

"This will be ideal."

"They have enough firewood, surely?"

"Not for firewood," he replied, unconsciously tucking his stick under one arm to inspect the half branch up close with both hands for a moment, "for carving. If I do not find something to occupy myself with now the pipeweed has run out, I shall turn to the ale like my dear cousin." He glanced up and grinned. "I jest, Pen-ii." He took his stick out from under his arm and started to head back to the tents once more. "But in truth it is something I often did when in the wilds in the north. I found it a diverting pastime. Though I say so myself, I am a fair enough carpenter."

Penny's smile widened. She was not quite sure why this little piece of personal information pleased her so much, but it did. Immeasurably.

"Really?"

"You sound surprised." He sounded amused.

"No, no, I just… well, I suppose I forget that as well as being warriors and rangers you are, of course, men who have to live practical lives and will have many practical, manual skills." She glanced at him. "Forgive me. It likely comes from only having ever seen you as the guests of Gondor or else travelling as we are now."

"Well, you will come to know us in our home lives soon enough, Pen-ii."

His smile was warm and genuine. He glanced back at the piece of wood in his hand.

"Besides, it is no bad thing, perhaps, if I find something to focus my attention on that does not concern… other matters, do you not think? Elrond mentioned something to me about finding suitable distractions whenever and wherever I could, however simple. I will admit doing that hour or two of leather-work in Rohan was…" He stopped and shrugged. He glanced up at her hair then caught her eye and smiled. "I am glad it was of use to you."

"It is. Very much." She smiled. "Thank you."

He made a gesture with the piece of wood to indicate it was nothing. They had reached the tents and paused.

"I will take your advice, I think, and head off for bed. Will you be heading back to the fire, or…?"

"No, no. It is time for me to relieve Bregion on watch." Bregion was the Dunadan who had lost an eye.

Penny nodded and there followed a brief moment as if both might say something more but did not know what. Then each muttered their goodnights with hesitant smiles and headed off in opposite directions, Halladan still clutching his lump of wood.

The walk had indeed been a pleasant diversion, and as she got herself ready for bed Penny was vaguely kicking herself for not having suggested it to Halladan before he had. The night before he had told her to not stand on ceremony and just do whatever she felt she needed to do, and yet she had still sat there at the fire, not wholly engaging with those around her, feeling as if that was what was expected of her and yet not really in the mood for any of it. Had she been feeling less tired she might have pondered over why it was she felt quite so comfortable and free to be herself in Halladan's company. As it was she just felt gratitude towards him and was still faintly smiling even as she fell asleep.

The nightmares began again that night. This time she was at her own wake. There had been no burial (because there was no body to bury, of course) but they had had a memorial service of sorts and, as she looked round her mother's front room, she knew this was the post-service 'sandwiches and bun fight.' Everyone was there: family and friends. Some faces were indistinct but she knew who they were nevertheless, even if their clothes were not quite right or their head seemed an odd shape. She was having a really good time at first, chatting to everyone, laughing. Someone even switched on some music and there was dancing for a while, which seemed like a perfectly reasonable thing to do at the time, the purpose of it being a wake entirely forgotten within the dream.

It all went horribly wrong when she went into the kitchen to get another drink, only for her brother to corner her and start ranting at her 'for having disappeared into thin air and how damn dare she not even contact them and let them know she was safe, had she not even SEEN the state their mother was in?!' He was shouting, practically screaming, his nose almost touching hers, and as he had gestured violently behind him she could suddenly see past him all the way to the sofa and there was her mother, sobbing fit to burst, inconsolable and near hysterical. The wave of guilt had woken her with a jolt and had stayed with her, livid in its clarity, for quite some time afterwards.

Penny barely said a word to anyone for most of the morning.

Faelon had insisted both Arvain and Tadion be amongst the first group of Dunedain outriders. Penny was thankful, knowing she would not have been in any mood to cope with them, given their behaviour at breakfast. The pair at been in fine form, making jibes each others' expense to the point that it nearly turned into a lighthearted wrestling match when Tadion made a lunge at Arvain (rugby tackle style, with his head in his cousin's midriff and arms round his waist) and Arvain, caught off-balance and laughing, staggered backwards as he attempted to grab his cousin round the neck, tripped over various bags of Naurdir's supplies and went flying (but at least had the satisfaction of knowing he had taken Tadion down with him). Many apologies to Naurdir later, Faelon had found the pair some work loading the horses but there were still cheeky grins, smirks and vague insults and threats being bandied back and forth. Penny knew both well enough already to know that, in that kind of mood, they would not leave her be if they saw her quiet or withdrawn, Tadion especially.

She was grateful, as ever, for Halladan's company, tall, silent and calm beside her. Once or twice he tried to bring her attention to something in the surrounding countryside, but the most she could manage was a nod followed by a half-hearted, apologetic smile and not much else. He did not press it and allowed them to journey the morning in near complete silence for the most part, but he cast her concerned looks every now and then.

The midday meal was as cursory as the previous day's – a functional affair more than the rest and respite that the evening would provide. Penny made a concerted effort to eat, as much as anything because she was acutely aware her mood would have worried Halladan slightly. Every time she caught his eye he would gesture towards some fruit or a hunk of cured meat with a questioning look. She would refuse, but then deliberately take a bite of whatever was in her hand to reassure him. He would nod encouragingly and smile gently.

After the meal as everyone was preparing for the off, Halladan left Penny in the company of Faelon and Celebdor and went scouting through the assembled throng for Lindir and Erestor, leading his horse by its bridle as he did so. He soon spotted them, both already horsed and ready to depart, and made his way over to them to have a quiet word. Thus it was that, barely five minutes later while Penny wondered whether she dare risk riding with Arvain and Tadion or if she should go on foot with Mireth instead, Erestor made his way towards her on his horse.

"Ah, there you are, Pen-ii. I was wondering if it might be no bad thing for us to start up the Westron lessons once more on a regular basis if you are so minded. After all, we had a lesson in the Deep and one following it. One has to keep on top of such matters or else it all comes to naught, you know."

In spite of her mood, Penny readily agreed, remembering even as she did so what Halladan had said the night before about 'even small things being good distractions.' Erestor, pleased with this response, waited for her to clamber into the saddle and then suggested they ride together and begin at once, even as the vanguard began to move off.

It soon became clear, however, that she could not fully engage herself. Several times, finding the switching back and forth from Sindarin to Westron too much to cope with in her current state of mind, she even replied in English to Erestor. It sounded weirdly alien compared to what she was so used to hearing nowadays. She had noticed the same clash of the familiar and unfamiliar when she had sung two nights before. It also made a rush of emotion well up within her as she heard the words fall out of her mouth, so much so that she eventually stopped doing it and relapsed back into Sindarin. Erestor did not remark on any of this, but he was observing her closely.

It was obvious she was in no fit state to do any practice. Whatever limited vocabulary or grammar she might even normally be able to grapple with would not come to the forefront of her brain, and she was making repeated, silly mistakes nor really retaining anything Erestor was saying. Consequently Erestor made no objection when she suddenly changed the subject onto his poetry. He seemed intrigued to learn she knew he had written it but then admitted he might have guessed when he found out it was Lindir who had told her.

"One does not like to…" He gestured vaguely as if looking for the right phrase.

"You are no Rhimlath, Erestor, I know that."

"Well, quite." He seemed quite pleased with himself when he got an almost-chuckle out of her.

They fell into silence. Penny could feel the weight returning as soon as she was not actively engaged in thinking about something else. Erestor was looking at her once more.

"Pen-ii," he began quietly, "to travel hard work."

Penny realised he was talking in English and blinked at him.

"Tired is…," he continued, pausing briefly as he searched for the word he needed in this strange tongue. "Usual?" Penny nodded. "All you thinking," he continued, pointed at his heart, "no, sorry, feeling, make big tired." He gave her a soft smile. "We understand," he further explained in Sindarin.

"We need to work on your grammar, Erestor."

He raised an amused eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

She grinned. Then it faded into a faint smile. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." He inclined his head. They were still talking in English. "You miss saying, no, talking English?"

She glanced away, not quite sure whether to nod or shake her head. She did not really know what she felt about it. She missed it like hell, but at the same time speaking English only reminded her all the more of where she was and of everything that was different.

"Ah, I see," he murmured in Sindarin. "Yes, I can understand that." He switched back to English. "If it is helping you, then talking we English when you want. It will be helping my grammar, no?" He was trying to be humorous, but when he saw the expression on her face – appreciative but also a little upset – his broad smile lessened and softened a bit in response. "When you wish, Pen-ii," he added quietly in Sindarin. "Do not push yourself. I only make the offer and you are welcome to take me up on it or not as you see fit. If you think it might help or ease your heart a little, well…" He smiled.

She nodded, smiling back, but not able to say anything for fear she might start to cry. Being so emotionally raw was not a good sign and she knew it. Damn this relentless travelling! Damn this inability to just stop, to take a break from it all! It just _never STOPPED!_

She took a deep breath and let out a long, slow, controlled sigh.

"Thank you, Erestor," she said at last, following his lead and reverting back to Sindarin as well. "It means much."

"You might find it helpful. You need to talk and perhaps to talk in your own tongue might help you to better express yourself. The very act itself, while emotional, might also be cathartic." He looked at her. "You cannot carry on as you are, Pen-ii. You must unburden yourself, come to terms with your grief one way or another."

She looked at him a little taken aback at his perception, then instantly berated herself for being taken back at all – he was an elf, after all, and they were so very canny about such things. Indeed, given her suspicions of quiet conversations being had in the background, no doubt he was not the only one so aware of her state of mind. She also realised with a shock it was near enough exactly what she had said so often to Halladan. Did she really need to be told once more? Were things really that bad? Was it so blindingly obvious to others?

Apparently, 'yes' to all three questions.

Oh. Crap.

She was faintly relieved that Lindir and Arvain chose that moment to arrive, having ridden up the line to join them. The three males fell into conversation round her, referring comments to her, explaining matters or throwing asides her way (usually at Lindir's expense), but by no means pressing her to join in, content to have her merely as a ready audience. It was the perfect way to pass the afternoon given how she felt.

That night Halladan took her off on their own almost as soon as they had finished eating. He scolded her gently for not taking her own medicine implying (not wholly seriously it had to be said) that in so doing she did not trust him completely.

"After all you told me at Orthanc why do you insist on holding things back?"

"That is not fair, Halladan. It is not like that. It is hard to find privacy when we travel, and besides I… well, I do not quite know how to explain it." She turned away with a sigh then glanced back at him before replying, her tone suddenly more weary than it had been. "I am just so tired of it all. Tired of _this_," she gestured vaguely all round her, "of living in tents, of never being able to escape any of it…"

"Escape? Are we such poor company?" He tried to sound light-hearted but his eyes spoke of seriousness and concern.

"That is not what I mean."

She looked down at her hands. There was a long pause.

"I know exactly what you mean, Pen-ii," Halladan replied quietly at last, "Do you think I have not felt much the same at times since we have travelled from Gondor? I realise it is hard for you but my father always taught me to try and accept matters as they are, not as you would have them be. That way madness lies." He gave a rueful half-smile, almost apologetic suddenly. "Yes, yes, I know. How did you put it? The bucket naming the pan black?"

She chuckled. "The pot calling the kettle black, but I understand your point." She paused, sighing again as she laid her chin on her knees. "What a pair we are, Halladan."

Halladan said nothing, though for the briefest moment a faint smile flickered onto his face, though it just as quickly disappeared, his brows furrowing and his look growing serious.

She began to talk then about life at home, about the things she missed or were a part of who she was, of her life as it had been; seemingly unimportant little things that somehow had become significant in the light of how she had been feeling the past couple of days. Halladan sat listening to her, partially baffled, partially entranced, as she tried to explain what bananas, pizza or chocolate were or why a story about a man utterly failing to avenge a murder that might not have even happened was considered one of the greatest stories of her people. She missed London, she told him, and then utterly bewildered him by describing what she missed most about it: the greyness, the wet, the noise, the bustle, the cold solitude of feeling utterly alone in a massive crowd of people all streaming past you and ignoring you completely. As serene and pleasant as it was to be surrounded by beauty (be it elven or scenic), it just was not what she was used to. She was homesick, plain and simple. That much Halladan could appreciate. He missed home too, he said. They all did, were all looking forward to seeing their homes, their families, their countryside at last.

They fell silent then, acutely aware as he spoke that, for all they could understand each other, their situations were very different and those differences were, for each, exceptionally painful. Halladan had to face returning to places that would be filled with memories of his father and brother while Penny might well never return home again; and while Halladan's grief would be tempered somewhat by the comfort of the familiar, Penny had no such solace other than in the newly formed friendships around her.

Several minutes passed by, the silence heavy with their thoughts. At last Halladan shifted slightly, glancing over to her, thinking to suggest a walk to take their minds away from where the conversation had briefly settled. She, distracted by his movement and looking towards him, could not hide the emotion in her face quickly enough. He saw the unshed tears in her eyes, watched as she blew out unsteadily, rolling her eyes up and away in her effort to not let them fall. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms about her as she laid her head upon his shoulder, her breathing heavy and shaky for several minutes more. Whether she wept or not he did not know, though she certainly wiped her eyes as she pulled away from him at last, and his hands lingered, gently clasping her upper arms as he waited till she lifted her face to look at him, wanting to reassure himself she was recovered if only a little.

"Forgive me, Halladan, I…"

"Don't you dare apologise. Rather I apologise if anything I said—."

"Oh, nonsense. Have I not always told you that it is better you speak of such things, that I would love to hear more indeed of your life, of what home means to you?"

"That is something which goes both ways, Pen-ii, and I, too, have told you that more than once. I am glad you have spoken more freely tonight than you have in some days. You need to do this as much as I… No, do not interrupt. You know it to be so." He smiled, waiting till she reciprocated hesitantly. "Now," he said with a change of tone, only then letting go his hold on her arms and reaching for his stick, "let us walk a little and talk about the stars or the kings of old or indeed you can tell me another tale by this Shig-gez-barr…"

"Shakespeare."

"Yes, him."

He held out his hand to help her up and then lead her on a circuit or two of a nearby copse for a half hour or so.

Over the next several days a routine established itself. The small group of those closest to Penny took it upon themselves to provide distractions for her as best they could throughout each day. It was perhaps an added bonus that in so doing they were also keeping Halladan occupied, but in truth it was distraction enough for him to take charge of Penny's care. He was her guardian and as such she was his responsibility now. Elrond and Gandalf sat back and let him get on with it, both agreeing (after talking with Halladan on various occasions while riding and late at night long after Penny had retired) that, as well as it being Halladan's duty, for him to be able focus his energies on something outside of himself and his own trauma for a while would be extremely beneficial. Both they, Galadriel and Celeborn were kept fully informed, of course, in case things developed any further or took a turn for the worse, but for the time being it seemed that Penny's friends could help her through this without anyone else's intervention.

Every day the small group would, whether by conscious arrangement or unconscious awareness of what was required, meander around Penny, taking turns in keeping her company. She was never left alone, never left without conversation or song to distract her (or Westron lessons in the case of Erestor). None of them pressed her to engage herself more fully, though they would include her as much as possible. Even the hobbits began to involve themselves, without anyone having said anything to them. Just as in Imladris they could see Penny was in a delicate state and also that Erestor was encouraging her in her Westron, thus they took it upon themselves to insist she join them for breakfast every day (or they would come and sit beside her if she were there already) and then talk nothing but Westron with Frodo gently testing her on any objects within sight that he could point at.

Though it barely registered through the fog of melancholy that seemed to have enveloped her, Penny was faintly aware of what everyone was doing and why, and was silently thankful to them. However it was the solace of Halladan's company she sought most: he had become her touchstone. That common level of understanding between them, even when merely sitting in silence together looking up at the stars listening to elvish song float over to them in the night air, meant that when she was with him she felt at her most comfortable. In the evenings she was invariably by his side, either the two of them walking so that he could exercise his leg or else sitting side by side at one of the fires listening to the stories and songs while Halladan cut and whittled away at his lump of wood in the firelight. Neither needed to explain themselves to the other, neither had to put on a false smile or felt the need to talk to the other, to fill the silence, if they did not feel like it. Indeed, whenever they rode together they barely said a word, and yet both seemed so obviously at ease in each other's company on such occasions, it was rare that someone came to join them; the one exception being Arvain who would sometimes ride on the other side of Penny: acting as Halladan's co-guardian, but in some ways always the 'second in command' in that regard.

Even so Halladan encouraged her as best he could to talk while they sat or walked. While in company he would get her to repeat some of the plots of books or plays she had tried to describe to him, clearly finding them fascinating and on a par with many others told round the fires. Romeo and Juliet went down particularly well – a story that crossed cultural barriers and had been one she had thought of sharing for some time now for exactly those reasons.

At night, Mireth would often sit beside her while she slept, stroking her hair and whispering elvish words of heartsease and healing, even singing if the nightmares began to disturb Penny enough to visibly agitate her. She would also bring with her a small pot of just-boiled water and into it steep a sprig of athelas, purloined from Elrond and used on his advice.

The days passed by with a slow monotony that was both infuriating and calming in equal measure for Penny. The Dunlendings continued to keep themselves hidden away except for the rare watcher from a far-off hill. The only exception to this occurred on the third day of riding through Dunlending territory, when a group of four riders trailed along beside them for some hours, always maintaining a distance of about a mile or so. The Dunlending riders kept to the high ground, disappearing from view now and then only to reappear once more on the crest of the undulating land to the east and keeping pace easily enough with the slow-moving group in the vale below. It made Penny nervous and everyone else wary. Halladan very deliberately moved his horse round to ride alongside Penny's right, as if to be in the way if a sudden rush of Dunlendings poured over the hilltops and down at them. Then two hours before nightfall the followers stopped, remaining still and silent, watching the train for quite some time before turning their horses at last and disappearing, never to be seen again.

The land they were riding through was green enough, but not lush as Rohan had been. It was rough and wild, filled with many small woods and copses – remnants of the great wood that had once filled the entire huge area between sea and mountains. At night sometimes several of the older elves, particularly those from Imladris, said they could remember that wood and how great it had been, stretching for hundreds of miles undisturbed, or at least it had until the Numenoreans had cut it all down to build their ships.

Streams poured down from the mountains, wending their way towards the sea, but even so there was never an early stop to allow for bathing. It was stand-up washes in tents for days - a fact that Penny was surprised there was not more bitching about until she learnt that the ellith and ellyn had insisted on midnight swims, not minding if their hair remained damp till dawn.

"Well it has only been the ellyn once so far," Mireth explained on the fourth day after passing through the Gap of Rohan. "We plan to bathe as best we can this evening if they can find a suitable spot to camp."

Penny prevaricated and then decided on joining them. She would not wash her hair, though, pointing out that the last thing she needed was to get a head cold. Mireth said she would help her wash her hair the following morning before they set out so that it could dry as they travelled in the summer sun.

Skinny-dipping by starlight in a slow, tinkling brook was quite an experience for Penny. The ellith sang songs as they stood, barely thigh-deep, tipping jugs of water over each other's hair or smoothing soap over their skin. The night was a warm one and Penny relished the feel of the cool water against her skin, even feeling she could risk washing her hair after all. Mireth poured the water for her and she reciprocated in turn. She felt it in the morning, though, having had not nearly enough sleep to cope with yet another early start. Frodo took pity and they all had the last of the tea, which turned out to be just as weak as he had feared it would be. He and the others also spared her the usual Westron vocab test too.

"Still cannot get used to all this washing in rivers," Sam muttered, shuddering slightly.

"Needs must, Ban." Frodo smiled.

"I know, I know. A proper bath is just another thing to look forward to for when we arrive in Imladris, is all."

As the days went by, for all Penny's mood did not deepen any further, it did not ease hugely either, merely maintained a certain level whereby she could just about cope with day to day and find sufficient distractions within it to exhaust her enough to be able to then crash out into unconsciousness at night. As time went on, however, she became increasingly conscious of the fact that meeting Saruman could happen almost at any hour. She felt fairly sure it was at least several days after turning north, perhaps even a week or more, but could not remember exactly. It did not help that on the night of the fifth day after leaving Aragorn, as they were taking one of their nightly walks, Halladan broke the silence to ask if she still could not remember when it might happen.

She did not look at him as she replied.

"I told you, Halladan, I cannot be certain."

He nodded and said nothing.

"I was beginning to wonder once more if I should not talk to Gandalf, Pen-ii."

"What?!" She came to a halt and boggled at him. This she really did not need. Not again. Not on top of everything else. "But I thought after what happened at the fire that time…"

"That did ease my mind, Pen-ii, it is true. I am still not sure that Gandalf should not know all the facts before he allows him on his way."

"I am not prepared to talk about this, Halladan." She was moving once more, stalking off in the direction of the camp.

"Pen-ii…!"

"No, Halladan! We agreed!" She turned to face him but did not slacken her pace, just walked backwards. "You said…!" Her face twisted as she felt angry tears prick her eyes. "You cannot do this, Halladan, not again!" She spun back round and, if anything, picked up the pace, striding out fast now.

"Hey, hey!" He caught up his stick and jogged after her, gently grabbing her by the elbow and bringing her to a stop. "Did we not agree that this would be my decision?" He spoke kindly, trying to calm her rather than rile her. "I have had long watches in the night to think this over, Pen-ii. I will admit once or twice I came close to speaking to Gandalf without consulting you first." He caught the furious look she gave him, even in the dark. "But I did not. I would not. I promised you." He sighed. "Do you not still wonder at our decision?"

"Of course I do. How could I not? But then I remember what he said and how he said it and… I just suspect he knows or guesses near. If not the place or the exact actions, then he knows Saruman will do_something_, something that he could very easily put a stop to if he so chose. I know he does. I am certain of it. Or as certain as I can be."

Halladan looked away, nodding to himself. They began to walk once more, neither speaking, indeed they did not say a word all the way to Penny's tent. She was worried he was upset with her.

"Halladan…?" she began quietly as they paused side by side.

A few moments passed before he looked at her, as if lost deep in thought. She could see his smile by the light of the occasional campfire or torch here and there.

"I will not make a decision just yet. Let us see what tomorrow brings."

He reached out for her hand and squeezed it reassuringly before bidding her goodnight.

But his words proved to be all too prophetic.

Halladan was on duty as an outrider the following morning so Penny rode with Erestor and Lindir, suffering under the weight of Westron declensions and praying for the moment that Lindir might rescue her with an anecdote or song. After lunch Penny and Halladan rode side by side, as was their wont, Arvain in front of them with Elladan beside him. For most of the afternoon they wound their way through a large wood that reached down from the mountain foothills and across their path. It was not until close to sundown that the vanguard found the trees petering out at last and led the train slowly out onto open ground once more.

The western sky was an orange glow, the sun just beginning to dip below the tree line. Penny and Halladan were somewhere near the middle of the train and still under the leafy canopy of the wood when they became aware of a general hubbub of quiet talk up ahead. Elladan rode forward a little way to ask those in front what the matter was, then came back with his eyes wide and his eyebrows up near his hairline. He muttered something to Arvain.

"What?!"

Arvain's mouth hung open as he turned his head to look at his brother, his expression incredulous. Halladan had no time to ask him what the matter was since Elladan was already explaining to all within earshot. Penny barely heard a word he said, though, because near enough the first thing that had fallen out of his mouth was the very name she had dreaded hearing all this time.

The news was passing back down the train, and fast. Saruman had been spotted the moment the vanguard had exited the wood, a pitiful figure not too far distant with an even more pathetic creature by his side. It said much for his physical state that he was barely recognised until the vanguard were practically on top of him.

Even as Elladan spoke Penny realised they were coming to the end of the trees and could see for herself the small group less than half a mile down the long, low slope ahead. Gandalf and Galadriel were side by side, horsed, Elrond and Celeborn with them but both hanging back a little, the hobbits beside them, and the rest of the train now beginning to pool round them, not stopping exactly but slowing down considerably.

A few very deliberately turned away as they passed by Saruman, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. Most of those who did so were from the Dunedain. However the majority could not help but stare at the frail shell of a once great being, formerly a noble friend of many within the company, now fallen so low and made so wretched by his own evil works. The stares were many and various: some cold, some disgusted, a few hot with rage but far more were filled with pity. These last were the most wounding, ones that, when caught sight of, made the filthy bag of bones and rags flinch as if in pain. The even filthier creature with him cowered behind him in abject terror, though whether of the overwhelming display of power and beauty before him or his master it was impossible to say. It was likely both.

As they rode inexorably onwards, caught as they were in the ever-moving sea of travellers, Penny and Halladan looked at each other only once, Penny in pure panic, her face pale, and Halladan in worried resignation, as if it were all too late now and out of his hands. Penny could feel her heart in her mouth. Then, barely a hundred yards from the small group, she muttered something indistinct, pulled her horse over to one side and slid out of the saddle to her feet. Halladan instantly wheeled his horse to follow her, dismounting quickly and wincing a little as he landed hard on his bad leg.

"Pen-ii? What is it? What ails you?"

"N-nothing, I…" She looked up at him. "I just feel it might be best if I walked."

Something deep inside her felt terrified at the idea of being seen by him, of risking catching his eye. Gandalf had sensed something about her from the first, so who was to say the same would not be true of Saruman? For all she knew he was no true danger to her, the idea that she might be brought to his attention somehow still completely freaked her out. She would hide away on the other side of the train from him and just walk on by as calmly as her fear would allow her.

Something about her tone meant Halladan instantly understood, or guessed near enough to the truth. He nodded once, curtly.

"A walk will do us both good," he said simply, turning to do exactly that, but Penny hesitated still and he looked back, reading the alarm in her face. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Pen-ii." He looked her straight in the eye. "I will protect you."

The absolute sincerity of the statement, the open and honest truth of his tone of voice and the expression on his face, did not pass Penny by. For a moment she was struck dumb, moved more than she could express by the sentiment. She did not doubt he would have said much the same to any one amongst the travelling group and yet something about the firmness with which he had spoken, the very deliberate way he had looked at her as he had done so told her it was as much to do with his role as guardian if not more to do with the friendship they now had between them. She roused herself, forced a smile at him, seeking strength from his matter-of-fact reassurance, and followed in his wake, leading her horse by the bridle.

The pace was so slow, with many not even bothering to pass by now but mill about and watch proceedings instead, that Penny and Halladan had time enough to watch the scene ahead (when they caught glimpses of it past others on foot or a horse's rump or legs) as they drew near. Saruman was snarling, an expression of pure loathing on his face as he spoke to Gandalf and Galadriel. There was a brief exchange as Merry stepped forward at one point. Penny noticed several nearby, including Halladan, stiffen instinctively and rest their hands on the pommels of their swords and that a handful of the elves, chiefly Galadhrim, reached across their shoulders, ready to have an arrow notched in the blink of an eye as Saruman suddenly scrabbled towards Merry with his hands. Even as Celeborn glanced round and, with a barely perceptible nod of the head indicated everyone could stand down, it became apparent Saruman was merely after something Merry was holding out to him, part of which Merry, in response to something he then said, quickly snatched back defiantly.

Penny had forgotten about all this, forgotten the threats Saruman had made directly against the Shire that had even had Merry questioning both his possible meaning and intention, let alone wondering how Saruman had come by the Shire's precious pipeweed in the first place.

There was little point in Penny pressing forward – everything had ground to a halt. Fortunately she had managed to pass by the spot where the conference was being held without being noticed. She stepped forward a little to stand beside Halladan and he instinctively moved a little closer to her protectively.

Saruman was leaving at last, spurning the offers of a last chance held out to him by former friends. Grima hobbled off after him, more doglike than human, bowed and cowering, but clearly as eager to leave the company of the great and good as he was loath to spend one more minute in his master's company. The vanguard also began to move once more, heading north, following the line of the mountains. Saruman obviously intended to put some distance between them before nightfall, and while he also headed north, turned slightly to the northwest. Even so for some minutes he had little option but trail past the company even as each moved slowly in different directions.

Saruman could not help but throw the occasional narrow-eyed glare at them all as he did so, his mouth turned downward severely in disgust, his face twisted into part scowl, part sneer and the whole conveying scorn, hatred and a good deal of arrogance. His eyes raked across them, taking in faces he no doubt recognised as if they had never meant the least bit to him, till he snorted and made to turn away in loathing but also with a hint of something close to amusement, revelling in the knowledge that the time of the elves he saw there had come to an end. As he did so, though, he did a slight double-take, hesitating momentarily as he caught sight of the one human female in amongst the throng. Penny, unable to tear her eyes away in fascinated horror, was thus fully aware of the moment when it happened. Her throat was so tight as she gasped that she literally squeaked in terror though so quietly none but Halladan heard it.

And even as, in that half-second, Saruman tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge if there was indeed something strange about this woman now she had caught his eye, Halladan had already stepped forward to block his view, taking hold of Penny's arm to pull her behind him as he angled himself slightly so as to screen her from Saruman's gaze. He looked defiantly in Saruman's direction all the while, as if daring him to guess the truth, daring him to do anything about it, but horses and several walkers moved between them for a moment, and when the way had cleared once more, Saruman's back was turned to them and Grima was barely visible in the long grass.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Please take it as read that Erestor's English would have a strong accent, just as 'Penny' is pronounced 'Pen-ii' by everyone, or when Lindir has quoted song lyrics back at her before now. However, if I'd written all of Erestor's speech that way it would have been near incomprehensible gibberish to read. For what it's worth, though, I did do a transliteration both to prove my point and also for your amusement:-

"Pen-ii, to trahvill haad wuk. Tayyed iz yoo-juw-wil. Orl yoo thinkkin-geh, noo, saw-rii, feelin-geh mayk biig tayyed." … "Yoo arr wal-cohm. Yoo miiz sigh-in-geh, noo, tawkin-geh Iingliis?" … "If iit iz halpin-geh yoo, than tawkin-geh wii Iingliis whan yoo waant. Iit wal bii halpin-geh mai gram-marr, noo?"

See what I mean? -giggles-

The details of the Numenoreans cutting down the mighty wood that spanned from Eriador all the way south to edge of what would become Rohan can be found in Unfinished Tales.

As ever, my sincere thanks and appreciation to all of you for sticking with me/this fic and continuing to read, despite the length of time chapters take to appear these days. My particular thanks go to all those who leave reviews, comments, con crit and/or track me down and send messages. Hugs to you all, and I'm only sorry I can't write this thing any quicker of late. Here's hoping, right?


	52. Oil On Troubled Waters

My sincere apologies for the length of time this chapter has taken to appear. I cannot promise the next chapter won't take as long, but I truly hope it won't. Thank you for your patience.

* * *

**Chapter 52** – _"Oil on Troubled Waters"_

Halladan waited until he was certain that Saruman was walking away without a backward glance, and only then did he turn round to Penny. He had not let go of her arm, and in the same moment that he had first taken hold of her, even as he had stood glaring in Saruman's direction, Penny had instinctively stepped up close to him, hiding herself behind him and resting her free hand on his back, barely daring to breathe.

Now that he looked down at her, Halladan could see she was pale. Very pale, in fact, to the point of looking positively chalky if not faintly green about the gills. Halladan wondered if she was about to throw up. One of his hands was now resting on her upper arm while the other still loosely held onto her wrist. That hand now slid downwards to take her hand into his own. She looked up at him, swallowing hard, struggling to control herself. He could feel the tremor in her hand and in her arm.

"How do you fare?"

She nodded stiffly and almost managed an attempt at a forced smile. It was clear she did not trust herself to speak.

"Come," he said gently.

Penny did not protest as he propelled her in front of him the mere few feet to his horse, meekly climbing up into the saddle as he held her just above her waist - part helping her up, part making sure she did not fall. He quickly climbed up after her, seating himself in front of her. He did not need to ask her to hold on this time. She automatically placed her hands firmly on either side of his waist, not trusting herself to not fall off if she did not given how shaky she felt. She leaned forward and pressed her cheek against his back, feeling tears prick her eyes with the release of tension. She sensed him turn his head towards her slightly, felt the rumble of his voice in his back as well as hearing him speak.

"He has no power, Pen-ii," he murmured. "In his voice still, perhaps, Gandalf says, but besides that he is nothing. He can not harm you, nor would he dare try surrounded as you are by so many that would protect you and protect you well."

He looked round to Penny's horse and called it. It obediently followed along behind even as Halladan started his own horse off at a walk.

"He saw me, though, did he not?"

Her voice was a whisper, hoarse with worry and not a little fear. There was a long pause before Halladan replied and he spoke slowly at first, as if picking his words carefully.

"For an instant, yes, I believe so, but not long enough for him to have made anything of you, of that I am certain. To him you were a mere traveller amongst us. I blocked his view and his interest moved on."

Penny did not reply. Halladan's head turned round towards her as if he might say something more and he laid his right hand over hers on his waist, letting it rest there for a moment.

"Trust me, Pen-ii," he said with a soft intensity. "You have nothing to fear. I know it."

He patted her hand gently twice with his fingers and then lifted his hand away, placing it back on his thigh once more.

That Penny was riding with Halladan once again did not go unnoticed, of course. Within five minutes or so Arvain came down the line towards them. He caught Halladan's eye, glanced back to Penny, who still had her face near enough buried into Halladan's back, and then back at his brother, his look questioning. Halladan very slightly shook his head. Arvain raised his eyebrows in surprise and concern. He fell in line alongside them but before he could say anything another voice cut across him.

"Is anything amiss? Is Pen-ii unwell?"

It was Rhimlath. Halladan exchanged a glance with Arvain even as Rhimlath gently reached across to touch Penny on the arm.

"Pen-ii?"

She roused herself, pulling herself back from Halladan and smoothing her hair away from her eyes with one hand. She tried to smile and failed.

"I am quite well, Rhimlath, I assure you."

Rhimlath took one look at her and then turned to Halladan. His voice was serious with genuine concern.

"What has happened?"

Halladan sighed. "She… took fright when Saruman caught sight of her."

At this Arvain's face darkened and one of Rhimlath's eyebrows rose slowly.

"Indeed?" he said, archly.

"I have told her she has nothing to fear," Halladan continued, "and she knows that—"

"I do, Halladan, it was just—"

"No, no, there is no need to explain," Rhimlath cut across them. "It is entirely understandable." He smiled reassuringly at her, though she could see something hard in his eye at the same time. Somehow she knew instinctively it was not directed at her. "Is there anything you require? Some water, perhaps? Or, no, I know…" He swiftly undid a small, ornate silver flask (with turquoise and mother of pearl inlay) that hung from his belt and handed it across to her. "Please. Take a sip. It will ease your heart a little."

"Oh, no, Rhimlath, I could not. There must be precious little in that small a flask and I…"

Rhimlath flapped his hand at her to shush her. "Nonsense. Drink."

Penny smiled gratefully, nodding in thanks and uncorked the top, making sure she only took one small sip. Rhimlath made a gesture to indicate she should take another, slightly bigger one before allowing her to cork it once more and hand it back to him. She could feel the warmth of the mirúvor spreading from her throat down her chest and throughout her body, even before he had finished attaching it back onto his belt.

"Thank you."

"It was nothing."

He rode with them for the remainder of the evening and, for once, Penny was glad to have the distraction of him chattering away at them about the various kinds of plants and trees about them, how they were obviously related to similar plants in Lothlorien (though, of course, far inferior which, he maintained, was only to be expected given they were on the wrong side of the mountains; Penny caught the look Arvain and Halladan shared at that point and had to look away from Rhimlath before he spotted her trying not to laugh), as well as what kinds of wildlife might be found where (something that both Halladan and Arvain could also discuss and agree with him about, for once).

Penny was still rather shaky, though, when they finally stopped to make camp. She found she felt rather weak and sick when she dismounted Halladan's horse and dimly wondered, if that was the case, how she would have felt had she not had the mirúvor. She hung about, feeling rather pathetic, as Halladan unsaddled his horse and unloaded his pack, bedroll and saddlebags. He was about to ask Arvain to take his horse and Penny's, when Rhimlath stepped in to offer to do exactly that, saying only a word for all four horses, including Arvain's and his own, to follow behind him obediently.

"How do they _do_ that?" Penny murmured quietly to herself.

Arvain chuckled. "Ah, the ways of elves are strange indeed, Pen-ii."

"I heard that!" Rhimlath's voice floated back to them over the crowd.

Halladan quietly suggested to Arvain that he should take Penny to find Mireth and her tent, while he himself went off to find Gandalf and let him know what had occurred. He was not overly concerned, but still felt it was potentially significant enough that he should do so. As he wandered off into the crowd, Arvain shepherded Penny to where the tents were already being set up where they soon spotted Mireth with a small group of ellith gathering together baggage and discussing which water sacs would need filling as the groups of ellyn worked.

Mireth could see Penny was not quite herself and, in spite of Penny's protests, wrapped a shawl around her, took her saddlebags from her and then insisted she go with Arvain to sit by a fire and not worry about helping to sort out the tent. So Penny went with Arvain while he tracked down Faelon and Tadion, sitting quietly to one side while they, along with three or four others, erected their own tent. Halladan joined them just as they were finishing. They had managed to get their tent up relatively quickly for once, apparently. So much so, that Faelon felt compelled to comment on it, declaring that Tadion obviously found Penny's presence 'wonderfully conducive to knowing his backside from his elbow which made a pleasant change.' Tadion seemed embarrassed and flummoxed in equal measure by this observation and the loud laughter it provoked. He smiled and laughed hesitantly (if not a little incredulously). However, Halladan seemed strangely uncomfortable, muttering sharply about 'needing to get on with it and get Penny in front of a warm fire, if you could stop your incessant chuckling for just one minute, Arvain!'

To one side of where the Dunedain tents and awnings had been set up, wood had already been collected by Bregion and a few others. Penny watched with a fascination that never waned, no matter how many times she saw the process, as Bregion, on his knees with a ball of dry moss and grass in his cupped hands, blew into it after another Dunadan had struck a flint over it so that a spark flew into it. As it began to smoke, a small 'nest' of twigs was being built by Faelon, and within seconds a small flame appeared in the middle of Bregion's hands and he pressed the whole under the mound of twigs as Faelon laid more dry grass and moss on top. Building the rest of the fire was easy.

"One night we shall have to show you how to make fire when you have no flint," Faelon said to Penny. "An essential skill in the wild and it takes practise."

"Rub two sticks together, no?"

"Well, yes, Pen-ii, but it is not as simple as you make it sound. There is a technique to it."

"I can remember Hirvell trying to teach me once," Tadion said, coming to sit next to Penny. "I was only eight or so, and he had been out with Halbarad and had just learnt how. He was so proud of himself."

Halladan laughed. "I remember that. I went with them that trip."

"Yes, I remember it also," Arvain said, sounding vaguely aggrieved, or rather sounding as if he was _trying_ to sound vaguely aggrieved, but was enjoying playing the part so a hint of amusement came through at the same time. "I had wanted to go and you would not let me."

"Me?!"

"Yes! Both of you, in fact! Father had been wavering but the pair of you said I was too young and how you had never gone into the wilds with him when you had been my age, so in the end I had to stay with Faelon instead."

"Ah, well, Arvain, you went with your father and brothers when you were old enough in the end, did you not?" Faelon was sitting back, grinning.

"That is hardly the point, Faelon. I never heard the end of it from Hirvell when he came back from that trip. He was setting fires left, right and centre."

"That is true enough," Halladan muttered ruefully.

"Was that the incident with Bregion's chickens?" Faelon asked, thoughtfully.

"What was that?" Bregion looked up.

"Yes," Halladan and Arvain said in unison.

"_As I was saying_," Tadion interrupted forcefully, "Hirvell reckoned he could teach me now he knew how to do it…"

Halladan laughed. "Ai, I can just imagine. And? What happened?"

Tadion pointed at his cheek. "See that?"

Halladan leaned past Penny to squint. "No."

"How can you not see it?! Pen-ii!" He turned to her. "Can you see it? Small scar, shaped like a knife mark…"

Penny looked hard and could see nothing in the shadowy gloom of the fire. "Er… possibly…?"

"Damn stick flew into my face on the fourth try!"

There was laughter from those listening.

"I remember that!" Arvain cried. "Ai, your mother was furious!"

"Hardly Hirvell's fault," Halladan pointed out.

"Well, no," Tadion admitted, "but Mother still felt he should have known better."

"Could have had your eye out," Arvain said ponderously, nodding his head seriously.

There was a pause and then he, Halladan and Tadion collapsed into laughter. Faelon, still grinning, shook his head at them.

"Now, now," he said.

"What?" Arvain was sniggering. "She says it _all_ the time!"

"I will not have you say a word against my mother!" Tadion protested, though he was laughing harder than anyone.

"She is a good woman, Tadion," Halladan said, chuckling.

"Ah, that she is. That she is." Tadion sighed. "It will be good to get back home." His face clouded momentarily. "I was loath to leave her."

"She will have gone to stay with Morfinniel, Tadion, you know that. I sent word to Morfinniel that she should send for her the moment I headed for Imladris to meet Halbarad. I told you that."

Tadion nodded. "I know. It is only that with Father gone…"

Arvain clapped him on the back. "Hey, now! You know as well as I do she would have been mortified if you had stayed with her rather than ridden south with us."

Tadion nodded once more, but he said nothing. Several Dunedain had arrived with stores from Naurdir and were busily handing out fruit and cured meat. Another was tapping a keg of ale. There was a moment of silence. Penny loved hearing them talk like this and to be included in such an informal, familial discussion. She knew little of Tadion's background, only that his father, Arvain and Halladan's maternal uncle, had been killed by a troll a few years ago and that his mother, apparently something of a strong-willed woman, had determinedly stayed in their small cottage miles from anyone else. While Tadion had spent some time with the brothers as boys, she got the impression it was only when he had come with his father for visits. She was pleased beyond measure at the talk of Hirvell and that it had had both Halladan and Arvain laughing.

"Um…" she began hesitantly. They all looked at her. "Dare I ask, but… what exactly happened with Bregion's chickens?"

As they ate Penny was told the tale of how Hirvell had burned down Bregion's chicken coop barely a week after he had returned from the wilds having learnt to start a fire without flint. He had been so proud of himself that he had practised constantly, determined to perfect the technique since it was, they all assured her several times, something that took practise to achieve well and quickly. On this occasion he had failed to fully stamp out the smouldering embers amongst the dry grass near Bregion's smallholding, more or less round the back of the chicken coop.

"Father spent a week rebuilding that thing," Arvain explained.

"I tried to help, but he would have none of it," Bregion, across the fire, chipped in.

"No doubt felt it was his responsibility given it was Hirvell's doing," Faelon added.

"Oh, he had Hirvell with him," Halladan pointed out. "Made Hirvell do much of the work too."

"I can remember him complaining loud and long once we were abed," Arvain chipped in.

"Ah, yes!" The others joined in Halladan's laughter. Then, as he continued to speak, Halladan's voice changed slightly and, as Penny listened, she realised with delight and surprise in equal measure that he was doing an impression of his brother. "I have splinters, Halladan, I swear it! Light a candle, Halladan, I've found another one!" The laughter round them all was loud now. Halladan's voice reverted back to his normal soft baritone, though he still laughed as he spoke. "Just about every one of his fingernails was black from hitting them with the hammer." For a moment they were all lost in the memory then slowly the laughter faded and everyone was left with soft smiles, though there was a note of sadness, perhaps, in the silence.

"Ever getting himself into trouble, that one," Faelon said quietly at last.

Given it had been Halladan who had carried the conversation for a while, it might have been expected for him to reply to Faelon, but he did not. He was staring fixedly at a point at the ground in front of him. Almost as if some unspoken decision was made by those nearby, the conversation picked up and continued around him.

Bregion snorted softly. "Have you forgotten Arvain as a boy, Faelon?"

Arvain, who had fallen as silent as his brother, looked up sharply.

"Hey!"

"That is true enough, Bregion. The pair were certainly something of a handful at times."

"I was not a…! Do not listen to them, Pen-ii, it is all lies."

Faelon was laughing once more. "Oh, indeed? I am sure I could think of a dozen instances at least that would more than prove my point!"

Arvain glared at him while Tadion snickered. Penny was aware of a soft snort, almost a chuckle, from beside her and glanced up to find Halladan smiling gently in the firelight. Clearly he was on Faelon's side. But whatever tales Faelon could entertain them with would have to wait for another day, because even as he spoke Glorfindel appeared with one of the Galadhrim to discuss the rest of the night's watch and who might be needed and when.

While they were now on the edge of Dunlending territory and would, on the morrow, head on into unpopulated countryside, they had still set up camp late, and the watch would still be double-strength. It was one last precaution against the Dunlendings, yes, but meeting Saruman less than two hours down the road, let alone the manner in which he had treated them all, was an event that in itself meant that no one would take their share of the watch alone tonight.

All this was discussed within Penny's hearing and she could barely manage a thin smile when she caught Halladan's eye. He tried to look reassuring, but Penny could not stop the knot of nerves forming in her stomach. It was entirely irrational, she knew, but what with everything else she had been feeling of late… She suddenly felt she had lost her appetite, setting down the piece of bread in her hand uneaten and refusing an offer of another slice of dried Minas Tirith sausage.

Halladan gave a wry smile.

"Missing chok-illit?"

"Something like that."

She was staring into the fire. Faelon caught the look Arvain and Halladan shared as he crossed over to them, his discussions with Glorfindel done and four Dunedain already leaving to take up their posts.

"Saruman would be foolish indeed to attempt to come near us this night," he said casually to no one in particular as he sat down next to Halladan, "nor do I have any genuine fear that he will do so."

"Even so it is as well to be wary," Halladan said quietly. "Who knows what goes on in that twisted mind of his."

Faelon glanced at him, curious, but did not ask why Halladan was speaking with quite such vehemence in his voice. Beside Halladan Penny stirred.

"If you will excuse me," she murmured, getting to her feet and brushing down her skirt behind her.

"Pen-ii…?" Halladan was already reaching for his stick, preparing to come with her.

"In truth, Halladan, if you do not mind I would prefer to be alone. Just for a little while."

"Oh. Of course."

He seemed a little surprised, concern clear on his face. Arvain, watching his brother, happened to catch Faelon's eye. It was as if both men were thinking the same thing, and, in their shared look, some sort of understanding passed between them, though what it was only they knew.

"I will not be long. Besides, I need to…" Penny gestured in the vague direction of the latrines.

That mollified him. He nodded and smiled, resting his stick back on the ground. However he glanced round to watch her leave, not turning back to the others till she was lost in the darkness and even then only after Faelon had said his name twice and Tadion had seen fit to kick him in the ankle to get his attention.

As Penny walked, she stayed within the confines of the area delineated by the tents, unconsciously keeping a line of them between her and the open green space beyond. They were camped within a small valley, a stream running through it and a tiny copse at one end of it with its trees stretching out down the banks of the stream towards the encampment. Guards were placed on the high ground all round them as well as at either entrance to the little vale, and it was easily guarded. Even so, the momentary shock of the afternoon on top of the pervasive world-weariness and homesickness had knocked Penny's logic circuits for six and she did not dare step outside of the 'safety' of the camp, even though she knew well enough others were no doubt stretching their legs a little in the gloom beyond.

She still felt oddly shaky and weak. Not physically, not as if her legs would buckle under her, but mentally all at sea. It was a very odd feeling. She was also very conscious of the fact that, so long as he did not double back on himself (which her head knew was unlikely even if the rest of her had yet to be convinced), Saruman was now headed directly for the Shire, with his exchange with Merry no doubt fresh in his mind. Guilt gnawed away at her along with everything else.

The talk at the fire had helped a little. She had even been able to step back from her own emotions enough to be pleased for Halladan, that he could enjoy such stories and contribute to them for once. Admittedly, there had been that moment of quiet stillness from him, but he had managed to move on from it without incident. Thinking about it as she walked, she smiled softly to herself, pleased for him beyond measure.

"That is a curious smile, Pen-ii. I wonder what you could be thinking about."

Penny, startled out of her reverie, looked up to find Galadriel a little way ahead of her. Where she had come from or where she might have been going, Penny had no idea. There was no one nearby though the main elvish fire was visible a little way to Penny's left beyond the nearest line of tents.

"L-Lady Galadriel, I… Good evening to you."

"And to you, my dear." Galadriel inclined her head slightly by way of greeting. "Off to meet young Halladan for one of your nightly walks?"

"No. I… wanted to be alone for a while."

"Oh?"

There was a pause.

"Come. Walk with me a little."

It was said in the nicest, gentlest possible way and yet there was no refusing it. There was a subtle authority in the way Galadriel spoke at times that left you in no doubt that, for all she was soft as springtime and twice as beautiful, she was an ancient, powerful and noble elf, none the like of which still walked outside of the West.

Galadriel turned and floated down between two tents, stepping beyond the edge of the camp towards the trees. She glowed in the starlight, her hair like liquid gold. It almost took your breath away to look at her. Penny followed behind. Here and there figures could be seen also taking an evening perambulation, though none were nearby. When they at last reached the edge of the copse, Penny followed as Galadriel stepped lightly and slowly amongst the trees, here and there her hand resting on tree trunk for a moment or two, her fingers tracing the lines and cracks almost as if she were able to sense their age and how they fared by touch alone. Once or twice Penny caught glimpses of elves here or there, talking quietly in the darkness or enjoying the feel of being amongst trees, but they never came near.

When Galadriel spoke at last she did not look at Penny to begin with.

"I heard what happened earlier this evening, my dear. You are fortunate indeed to have one as quick-witted, fearless and noble as Halladan as your guardian, though in that respect he is much like any of his race. I doubt that Curunir would have been able to fathom anything about you from such a brief glance. You do not need to concern yourself, but then… I am sure you know that." Only now did her glance flicker in Penny's direction, a soft and strangely enigmatic smile on her face. "After all, you would know better than I, perhaps, if Saruman were not travelling straight upon the path that he so clearly chose for himself this evening."

Penny hesitated. Had that wording been deliberate? Elves might talk in riddles sometimes, but they always chose their words very carefully.

"I… am not sure I…"

But Galadriel either had not expected an answer or else had read all the answer she needed to from Penny's reaction. She continued to meander slowly through the trees.

"It saddened me greatly that he looked upon us as venomously as he did. I had hoped it would not be so in spite of everything." She sighed and there was a pause. "Tell me, did you confide your secrets to Halladan?" Penny felt her eyes widen in shock even as Galadriel glanced at her once more. "Ah, indeed? Good." The smile was genuine and warm. "You needed to, and we did wonder if that was the case. The two of you have become so close, providing comfort for each other in your pain. Much solace is to be found in the company of one who understands your heart, Pen-ii." There was another brief silence and Galadriel stopped walking for a moment. "You have been most anxious of late." She had spoken softly and now lifted her head to look directly at Penny. "I waited for I knew not what, but after meeting Curunir on the road this evening I realised the time had now come. Is there anything you wish to ask me?"

It was not the question Penny had been expecting. If anything she had expected the usual 'is there anything you want to tell me?' routine, but not this, not… unless…

Penny stared at her.

"You know," she breathed, her astonishment clear even though Galadriel was all but confirming what Penny had always suspected was the case.

"Know?"

"You know what he will do."

"Oh, I cannot know. Not for certainty. If you mean to ask me if I have seen what might occur, then that is certainly true. I saw it some time ago." Again that look that seemed so gentle, so innocuous, and yet gave you the very distinct impression that she was boring holes into your brain. "My gifts to the Walkers were not wholly ornamental. I am sure you know that, knew that indeed long before I gave them, long before they were used. Some proved useful to them… some may yet be useful still."

Relief flooded through Penny. It was as if a dam burst. Her face dropped into her hands as she choked back a sob.

"Now, my dear, there, there."

A gentle hand fell upon her shoulder, another came to cup her cheek, lifting her face so she looked up into Galadriel's, tears streaming. Galadriel was smiling sadly and her eyes spoke of the long ages she had seen and all the wisdom she had learnt from what she had witnessed. There was a near infinity of understanding in those grey eyes, a pure acknowledgement of what it was to have to watch calamities unfold, to let fate take its course, to see those you loved fall, that which you held dear crumble to dust.

"You kept silent all this time because you feared influencing us perhaps? After all, they are a people very dear to Mithrandir who have proved their worth and their nobility in what they have achieved at our behest and encouragement. It will distress him greatly should it come to pass, as assuredly it will now that Curunir has spurned us one last time. But know this, Pen-ii: we cannot hold back the threads of fate, only untwist them now and then, but they will pull along the path preordained for them nonetheless."

And then she turned away and spoke in terms that almost had Penny reeling. She spoke in a way that Penny had only ever known elves hint at before, except perhaps for that time when Arwen had sung to her in Imladris and she had read and felt so much within her song despite knowing very little Sindarin at that point. In her mind's eye, almost as if Galadriel were painting it within her mind, she spun above the world, looking down upon it and seeing how all within it were so many ants or pieces on a chessboard, and yet here and there shone a bright light, a constant who barely moved while all around them scurried hither and yon, stopped abruptly or started to move, stirring into life.

These were the terms in which the elves and the Ainur saw themselves.

As she mentally floated back down to earth, Penny became more aware of what Galadriel was actually saying.

"We have our own paths to tread, and the same is as true for Curunir as for Maura or any of his people. If we thought he could truly cause them any great harm, do you think we would have offered him our hand of friendship? Do you truly think Mithrandir would have allowed him on his way?"

"They will go down in history for what they do when they return. It is because of all they learnt here in the south, all that they faced… They return already heroes to all of Arda, but then prove themselves heroes to all of their own people on their own terms. They know nothing of Kings or Dark Lords or wars. But when Kali blows the horn of Rohan and rallies them to his call, and when Ban and Raz incite them all to rise up against the menfolk who have sullied their land and sought to enslave them… Much that is good will come from this."

Galadriel was nodding and smiling, though looking out up the stars. There was a long pause.

"Let Saruman tread carefully," Galadriel said quietly at last. "He could yet turn round and seek our hand. He will not, but he could. Let him beware his spiteful and malicious nature. It will be his ruin. Nor will it be at the hand of any of Maura's people."

Penny would have answered her, but the look Galadriel gave her told her she did not need to confirm a thing. Galadriel smiled.

"Take comfort, Pen-ii. Take comfort and let your heart be eased. Others have made this decision, not you. Allow the burden to fall from your shoulders."

"It will be so changed," Penny said quietly, clear distress in her voice. "It was a place safe, cut off from all around it, not knowing anything of such things…"

"And yet you just said to me much good will come of it. Long after Lothlorien has fallen still and quiet, a piece of it shall remain in Suza, surrounded by song and laughter." She looked down at Penny, her face a mixture of pleasure, pride and infinite sadness all combined. "Our time has ended, Pen-ii. Who are we to interfere in matters so trivial? The great threat has fallen, and this lesser thorn shall choose his own path, be it for good or ill." She looked out beyond the tree line, down the length of the west-facing valley. "No longer will we intervene, nor are we needed. All that was foretold has come to pass. All is finished at last."

There was a long silence then before she glanced down at Penny once more.

"Go. I shall stay here a while. Go and seek out the family of Halbarad and the Dunedain. They are your people now."

So saying, she lifted her hand once more to Penny's cheek and, all at once, Penny was aware how very young she must seem to Galadriel, indeed to any elf. Something in that gesture, and not simply the maternal nature of it, made Penny feel as if she were a mere child once more. Galadriel's lips might have been moving, she could not be sure, but if they were she heard no sound, only a slight breeze stirring the leaves above them, and it seemed as if, for the merest moment, the starlight glimmered a little brighter in Galadriel's hair and glinted off the jewels in her skirts. Galadriel smiled, lifted her hand away and nodded very slightly.

Penny took that as her cue to leave and did so, pausing as she reached the edge of the trees to look back for a moment.

"Thank you."

Galadriel said nothing, only smiled once more and then turned to walk amongst the trees.

As it happened, Penny stepped out from the line of trees and practically walked into the back of Rhimlath and a small group of Galadhrim. The Galadhrim smiled politely at her and Rhimlath offered to walk her back the fifty yards or so to the encampment. As they walked Rhimlath was actually rather endearing in his quiet enquiries into how she was faring. Given her conversation with Galadriel, Penny could honestly tell him she felt much better.

When they reached the tents, Penny insisted Rhimlath rejoin his friends and immediately went to find Halladan and let him know what had happened. She did not have to go far. She met him on her way to the Dunedain main fire, he having decided that she was taking far too long 'for a mere visit to the latrines' and thus had come to find her.

She shook her head and laughed softly at him. "You worry too much."

"I do?" He seemed amused by something. "You seem to be in a better mood. What happened while you wandering alone in the dark?"

She told him about her conversation with Galadriel, word for word as best she could. At the end of it he was nodding slowly and thoughtfully.

"Well, you did say you suspected as much."

"I know, but it is one thing to think it and another to learn it is the case."

"Oh, indeed. And she has told Mithrandir?"

"I presume so. I did not ask."

"Ah."

"It would seem unlikely she would keep it from him, and something of what she said seemed to suggest she had not."

"And even if she saw fit to do so, who are we to challenge her judgement, her great wisdom? Ai, Pen-ii, I cannot tell you what relief it is to me to hear all this."

"For me also, Halladan."

"Yes, of course." He held her eye. "I am glad of it." He smiled.

Penny returned his smile but at the same time looked away, feeling faintly awkward and unable to look at him directly.

They decided not to return to the fire straight away. Halladan said he wanted to exercise his leg a little and, besides, the hobbits were at the fire, Merry rueing returning the pipeweed to Saruman and he and the others pondering much on Saruman's warning that they had best watch out for what might greet them when they returned home. Halladan admitted frankly that it had been that conversation as much as Penny being over-long that had spurred him to come and look for her.

"When Tadion found out it was the tobacco pouch Kali had taken back from Saruman, he insisted on sniffing it. You should have seen the smile on his face just to get a scent of the pipeweed." Halladan was grinning and chuckling. "He then wondered if the leather might have absorbed any of the pipeweed's flavour and if it could be chewed. Even went as far as asking Kali if he would object to him cutting it open. Do you know I honestly believe he was not wholly joking! If Kali had given the merest hint of allowing him to do so, he would have done it, I am sure of it!"

They both laughed before falling into a comfortable silence.

"It was wonderful to hear you all talk of your childhoods a little tonight," Penny said a little hesitantly after some minutes. "About Hirvell, I mean."

Halladan nodded and looked away for several moments before glancing back at her. He could tell she wanted to ask more but did not dare.

"Yes, it was…" He smiled slightly but could not finish the sentence and Penny quickly changed the subject.

The next day saw a change of mood in the camp. A late start and a relaxed breakfast over which there was much banter and gentle laughter helped set the tone. For the first time in days Penny seemed more inclined to join in with conversation, or at least smile and acknowledge the fact when Arvain scored one over on his cousin by getting the hobbits to laugh so hard Merry very nearly choked on an apple (and had to have his back patted hard by Frodo) at the tale of a small, naked Tadion pelting his elders and betters with rotten crabapples and then weeing all over his uncle Halbarad.

"You were the one that had taken me paddling in the stream, Arvain!" Tadion retorted as he tried gamely to ignore Merry's muffled coughs. "You were the one who said it would best to let my clothes dry in the sun rather than have Mother see them!"

"And Arvain was the one who set up the 'fort' to be defended from 'orcs' at all costs, I seem to remember," Halladan muttered quietly to no one in particular.

"Exactly! And it was not my fault that when Uncle finally caught me, he tickled me so hard I..."

The glance Tadion threw Mireth and Penny as he stopped short showed how even his fairly thick skin had been pricked at mention of his wetting himself, even as a small child, in female company.

"Just you wait," he hissed vehemently brandishing the hunk of bread he was holding at his cousin, suddenly (and somewhat surprisingly) a little embarrassed. "Just you wait, Arvain."

Arvain sniggered and waved a hand dismissively, but before he could respond both he and Tadion were distracted as Merry, his breath finally caught, explained he had laughed so hard because it had reminded him of a not too dissimilar tale from Pippin's misspent youth. Much to Pippin's loud protests and everyone else's encouragement Merry then related all in lurid detail (with asides and additions from Sam and Frodo, of course), and even Pippin was having a fit of the giggles by the end of it, so entertaining was Merry's performance.

As the day progressed the landscape around them began to change. It was lush and green, but wild and wild in a way that even the Dunlending countryside had lacked. It was clear even to Penny that travellers were rare indeed here. It was the countryside, the open wilds in their rawest form, and it was perhaps no accident that the Dunedain seemed that much more upright in their saddles, that much more energised even talkative than they had been. Wild country stirred their blood, and the scent of home was in the wind.

There was no sign of distant habitation anywhere, nor would they find any for many days yet. Late summer flowers were in bloom, dotting the long grass with splashes of colour, and every copse was filled with birdsong. They headed in a steady northerly direction, the mountains looming large to their right in the east, every now and then travelling along patches of broken causeway. However, unlike when they had been travelling through Dunlending country when they had frequently encountered stretches where, even if the road itself did not exist, you could see where the Greenway once had been (since the grass grew thinly and the vestiges of the way could be marked out), now the spaces between the remnants of the road were entirely overgrown as if nothing had once existed on their path and the remnants themselves grew progressively fewer and far between.

Unsurprisingly, given her conversation with Galadriel, over the next few days Penny slowly began to rally a little. Her routine remained unchanged for the most part with friends keeping her constant company and her nightly walks with Halladan (as much for his benefit as hers) so she was never alone or bored. Of course it made a difference that they were no longer setting out at the crack of dawn and setting camp after nightfall so she was marginally less tired, which helped, and the first night after meeting Saruman on the road there was communal washing in the last vestiges of the sunlight, which helped even more. That night when Erestor came to sit near them, Penny was persuaded to tell one of her tales, this time what she could remember of Beowulf, and afterwards Erestor questioned her closely about it, a conversation that soon became more English than Sindarin. At first Penny had not realised it had happened, but then when she became aware after quite some time, she stopped abruptly in mid-sentence and paused long enough that Halladan, sitting next to her, a small pile of wood chips forming in front of him as he whittled away at his carving, looked up at her questioningly.

"It is most pleasant to hear you converse in your own tongue, Pen-ii," Erestor said gently. "You have a freedom of expression that you have yet to properly achieve in Sindarin." He smiled. "We should do this more often. I find it a most fascinating language."

And so they did, most evenings from then on. Indeed, once or twice if Halladan were otherwise occupied, perhaps bathing, on watch or helping with chores round the camp, Erestor would walk with her a little instead and she would then talk in more personal terms about her family and her life back home. It was so very strange to talk about them all in English; so very strange, surprisingly distressing, and yet also incredibly cathartic. It helped enormously to have spoken to Halladan about it all as well (and Penny continued to do so), but to then say it all once more in her own language made even more of an impact on her psychologically.

"I just... wish I could tell them. Tell them that I'm okay, that I'm not dead, that nothing horrendous has happened to me. Well… relatively speaking." She sighed heavily. "I feel so guilty, Erestor. I worry so much about Mum."

Erestor was not getting every word, but what he could not catch exactly he could guess at easily enough.

"Do whatever you need to, Pen-ii," he replied in Sindarin. "If there is any ritual or cultural habit… anything that might help you, then do it. If you need any help, or want any of us to be involved… you only have to ask."

"But such as _what_, Erestor?"

Erestor shrugged. "Something will present itself to you at the right moment, perhaps. When you are ready, then you will know."

For the first time since the company had swung north, only a normal level of guard was required and there was still a good hour or two of daylight after setting camp. In such circumstances, therefore, many of the Dunedain could be seen at one remove from the tents sparring or training. It was all rather light-hearted, perhaps, but it was fairly obvious it was also to get themselves back into a particular frame of mind, to blow off any cobwebs that might have formed during their long sojourn in the south since, it seemed clear, Aragorn had insisted they be prepared for anything once they reached home. It was also a stark reminder that 'home' was only a matter of weeks away.

Often it seemed to involve finding a large piece of deadwood and hanging it from a tree, then riding past it and either thwapping the living daylights out of it either with a sword or else aiming arrows at it (but only after someone had set the thing swinging wildly). It was quite something to see them riding at full gallop, no hands on the reins, bow and arrow in hand, concentrating on a target that, given how close they rode to it, came very close to hitting them in the head on occasion or at the very least unhorsing them. Even some of the elves joined in, just for the sheer sport of it. They favoured only aiming at the target with their bows, of course, and insisted on smaller and smaller targets swinging more and more wildly. Less frequently there was wrestling or hand-to-hand combat, or else a bit of archery practice out of the saddle, but nothing that involved a sword. Needless to say Halladan, eager to speed his recovery now his leg was much improved, felt it prudent he join in, though never for much more than a half hour or so, and not even that for the riding (since there was only so much time in the saddle that really his leg could cope with).

It took him a few days to do so, though. At first he merely watched, nodding in approval or occasionally shouting out some advice to Tadion or Arvain. That he was removed from direct involvement was something that Penny could not help but notice. When she asked him about it his response was suitably vague and he immediately changed the subject. Only on the third night after they had met Saruman, when Arvain was heading off to fetch his horse for some practice and Penny asked if Halladan was going to join him, did Penny at last get some insight into what was going on. Halladan hurriedly said something about his leg playing him up a little, and Arvain just as quickly said that he hardly thought Halladan needed any practice, given he was one of the best swords he knew of. Penny thought back to Helm's Deep and what Arvain had said about Halladan being not at all himself when he had pushed him into sword practice that day, and of course later that same day Halladan had then gone on to have the flashback on top of the Wall. Thus she suspected that he was avoiding the practice out of fear of the same thing happening and Arvain was falling back into his old habit of protecting his brother by acquiescing instinctively to whatever Halladan felt was best.

The following evening, therefore, she insisted, albeit gently, that Halladan join Arvain. Others knew his state, and if it was not the right thing for him to do then they would stop him, of that she was confident, so she felt safe enough to push him into it.

"Penny, truthfully, I am not sure…"

"Arvain keeps telling me you are fantastic with a sword, Halladan, but I only have his word for it. Besides, you are his big brother so it is to be expected that he would say that about you."

Halladan raised an eyebrow at her.

"Is this your way of trying to goad me into doing this?"

"Is it not working?"

"No."

"Ah. Well, I still think you should do it."

"Why?"

Penny fidgeted. "No reason, just…" She shrugged.

"What has Arvain said to you?"

"Arvain? Nothing. Why?"

"No reason."

Now it was her turn to look at him askance. He glanced at her sideways. There was a pause.

"Yes, yes, very well," he said at last, exasperated.

Penny grinned.

As it turned out, Halladan's few days of reticence were entirely unfounded and he coped marvellously. He still felt the need to sit in silence with Penny for a while afterwards, as if to still his thoughts, which was fine by her. Whatever it took, frankly.

That she could bring herself out of her own melancholy to bully him at all, indeed come and watch them and not let her imagination run gloomy riot with thoughts of them as warriors in battle and the sights and horrors they had seen, said much. There was still that dull ache of homesickness within her and she still carried the same quiet, heavy sadness of grief, but in the days immediately after speaking to Galadriel both became dulled compared to how they had been and the sense of them not nearly so sharp now a lot of everything else that had been bothering her had been lifted thanks to Galadriel's words. The support and distractions of others had helped strengthen their effect, helped to bide the time as she trod water, waiting for the swell of emotions that had engulfed her in the preceding days to subside or at least become more manageable, but there was something more than that as well. There was a lightness of being within her, or the growing sense of something like it: a feeling of acceptance with her lot that she had not felt for a long time. She wondered if that too was down to Galadriel, but she felt too shy to mention it or ask at first. It was only some days afterwards, when Halladan commented on how much more 'herself' she seemed, less restless, less resentful, that Penny said as much. Halladan, pressing her a little, listened as she described the final moments before she had parted company that night with Galadriel, a knowing smile on his face, his gaze down at his feet. At the end he nodded to himself then glanced at her, tilted his head momentarily and shrugged.

"Who can say, Pen-ii? Likely as not. The ways of elves are deep indeed, even to us the Dunedain who have long known them and consider them distant kin in some respects even still. It would not surprise me; indeed I would be more surprised if she had _not_ used some of her power to lighten your heart a little. It is their way. Even if they do not intend it, just by being in their presence it… moves you a little. You do not find this?"

She had been so overwhelmed by her own worries of late she had found little time to dwell on it, but she had to agree.

On the fourth day after meeting Saruman on the road, it dawned on Penny that they were actually travelling on uplands, a sort of raised plateau of low hills that slowly fed into the mountains' foothills, and below which, to the west, were the flood plains of the Greyflood or Gwathló river. Every time they reached the crest of a hill, or travelled for a while on higher ground, horizon of reed marshes could be seen just north-west of them – the Nîn-i-Eilph - and beyond it those with keener eyes than Penny could just make out the silvery ribbon of the Gwathló.

The summer was drawing to its close. The nights were falling a little earlier now, and dusk became a fantastic time of mist rolling down the foothills to meet them. On occasion it would even stay with them for the night, billowing eerily through the camp and even the elves wrapped in cloaks (if only to keep out the damp since they did not feel the chill as the Dunedain and Penny might). For the most part, though, even on evenings such as that it was pleasant enough. The days were golden with a sun that hinted at autumn's onset, and with every passing day, Penny felt herself returning to a more even keel, still upset but more 'balanced' and better able to focus her attention on Halladan and whatever distraction he might need as much as he had been doing the same for her the past week or more.

Halladan was by now her ever-watchful constant. Every day he rode by her side, quick to offer her his hand and haul her into his saddle if she seemed weary or overly distracted and unable to bear conversation. Every evening after they had set camp a routine had established itself whereby he would seek out her tent to accompany her to wherever she might be headed – usually to help Naurdir or accompany Mireth to fill watersacs. Their nightly walks, first undertaken so they might escape the company and be alone with their own raw emotions for a while, were now a pleasure she looked forward to, happy to walk a second time even if she had already done the rounds of the camp once with Erestor that evening, if only for his company and it seemed he felt the same way.

This evening routine was only disrupted slightly by her period arriving. She was back to washing cloths and leaving them to dry. Mireth assured her that there was enough sun of an evening, albeit low in the sky, and the nights mild enough that they would be dry by morning without the need of a fire so long as she wrung them out well enough. Penny was not sure she felt comfortable with her stained cloths on show now the Dunedain were a part of their group. It had been bad enough with elves around, but with humans let alone men part of the picture…

"You forget Faelon has daughters and a wife, Pen-ii," Mireth said with a smile as they readied themselves the morning it had begun. "He will be well used to such things, as will many others."

"Halladan and Arvain will not."

"Perhaps not, but they did spend a lot of their boyhood in the company of Faelon's family after their mother died, do not forget. After all, Morfinniel was a cousin of hers, so the families would have been close even without the bond Faelon and Halbarad had always had since childhood."

As it happened, Halladan, coming to collect her from her tent that evening as was now his wont, found her kneeling over a bucket, hand washing that day's cloth. It took him a moment to realise what she was doing as she started slightly and then looked at him questioningly and perhaps a little defiantly as if daring him to be embarrassed (if only to cover her own embarrassment).

"Ah, I, um…"

"I will be with you presently, Halladan."

"Yes, yes, of course."

He hurried off only looking faintly pink about the cheeks, which was not bad going considering.

When Penny came to join the Dunedain at the fire a little while later, Mireth and Lindir with her, it seemed Halladan had confided in at least one other of his momentary confusion (and possible embarrassment of Penny) since Faelon made a point of pulling Penny to one side and letting her know that, should she ever have any pain, now that they were in countryside not too dissimilar to that which he was most familiar with, she only had to say the word and he could easily seek out a particular plant that his wife had always recommended to his girls.

"We have a permanent stock in the house," he added.

Penny assured him Mireth had given her some herbs before they left Rivendell and she still had some left. Nevertheless he found some for her anyway, coming to her tent the following morning with a handful of leaves which he had picked at first light. They were still wet with dew.

The one thing that was little discussed between Mireth and Penny was the fact that this was her first period since Gondor. She had basically skipped a cycle entirely, and Penny put it down to stress and distress. So did Mireth though she did not say that directly, merely telling Penny she was 'glad things were improving for her' and giving her hand a squeeze. Penny nodded, smiled and said she was glad too, but they both knew what they were talking about without having to go into detail.

Six days after meeting Saruman the first group of Dunedain left the travelling party. They were intending to follow the Greenway as it bent away a little to the north-west and so cross the Greyflood at Tharbad and then straight up into their homeland. Unlike Boromir, they would not be attempting to cross the Greyflood after autumn rains, and while still a potentially dangerous crossing, it was not a road wholly unknown to them, though at the southernmost limit of their territory. Besides which they were Rangers, well suited to crossing country where no others dared walk or ride.

Bregion was amongst those riding out, three others with him. From now on the Dunedain would peel off in groups, heading north by routes they could easily fathom in the wilds, and so on and up straight into Eriador rather than follow the line of the mountains all the way north to Imladris and then west; thus they would be home all the sooner as well as also arrive in different parts of the region so as to be able to better cover a wider area and assess where help might be needed, if at all. Then once they reached their old stomping grounds, the small groups would sub-divide yet again, and each Dunadan would then travel alone or in twos at most as was their usual way of things.

The breakfast before they left was a quiet affair. They had risen early, and Penny had made a point of asking Mireth to make sure she was awake in time to say her farewells and, when they came, they were just as quiet and perfunctory as the meal had been. It was an act that the Dunedain were clearly all used to given the lives they led. This was the norm for them – to often be on the move, greeting and leaving as they went about their duty. It was back into the old routine in some respects. The longest part of it was the goodbyes to the elves, especially those from the Galadhrim they had befriended, since they would be unlikely to see many of them again unless, perhaps, they happened to meet them on their final journey west to the Grey Havens in the following year or two.

The goodbyes done, they were in the saddles and riding off even as the rest of the camp was still being dismantled. As Penny watched them go, raising her hand in farewell along with Halladan, Arvain, Tadion and Faelon as Bregion turned his head one last time to look back, she suddenly acutely aware that it would be the turn of the four men standing next to her soon enough. She had long known that would be the case, of course. She could not have sat at the fires with these men as often as she had without overhearing them discuss their plans, but only now did it really hit home. Only now could she properly contemplate what that would be like: to be without human companionship once again, to be without these men who had become friends, even a little akin to family. Most importantly, while there had been talk of Halladan or Arvain, or both, accompanying her as far as Rivendell, if only out of courtesy's sake as her guardians, she was suddenly more aware than ever before that she would be without their company soon enough, perhaps at most within a couple of weeks.

Thus it was with a heavy heart that only a short while later she saddled up her mare and set off at Halladan's side once more; a heavy heart and plenty of time ahead of her that day to do little else except examine precisely why she should feel the impending separation quite so keenly.

* * *

Author's Notes:

For those unfamiliar with the books and just as a reminder (though I'm sure I've mentioned it before), Galadriel's gift to Samwise was a box with the nut of a mallorn tree inside (which was planted by Sam to replace the Party Tree) as well as some dust which, when he sprinkled it here and there in the Shire, made the ground bloom as it had never had before – thus restoring the Shire not simply to its former glory, but in places something better.

It was at Tharbad that Boromir lost his horse on his journey north to Rivendell. It had once been a great town with a bridge, but was now in ruins, with the bridge forming a treacherous ford. Had he known the way, Boromir would have done what the House of Elrond did on this return journey from Gondor – turned away from the Greenway to head north, crossing the Swanfleet and following the line of the mountains all the way to the vale of Rivendell.

Just FYI, due to a few requests and then polling quite a number of readers via my LJ, it seems that many people felt a table of characters for these two stories would be useful, if only to keep track of minor characters (especially with the long gaps between posting chapters of late). This can be found here: http: / boz4pm. livejournal. com/ 268905. html (only without the gaps - only way to try and write a link and not have 's ff dot net's mad formatting eat it). It includes all the OFCs and OMCs as well as minor canon characters (in Tolkien's terms). Any major canon characters, especially if they appeared in the films, really should not need to be in such a table, lol!

As ever, my sincere thanks to everyone who is still reading this, to all new readers, to those who rec the fics, to those who review, comment and get in touch – it is all and always much appreciated. -hugs you all-


	53. Hook, Line and Sinker

**Chapter 53** – _"Hook, Line and Sinker"_

Looking back, Penny would mark the time that the first Dunedain left the company as being the point when everything changed; or rather, to be more exact, the moment when she became properly aware just how much things had changed. It had, of course, been staring her in the face for quite some time though she had little realised it; but then to be fair she had had so much else to deal with, so much emotion, pressure and stress that it was hardly surprising this perhaps less pressing realisation had entirely escaped her notice till now. And even now, even with so much of her stress and distress lifted from her and her heart lighter than it had been since she could barely remember when, she could scarcely take it in at first. In fact, she point blank refused to for a day or two.

All that day after Bregion's party had left, she mulled over why she felt so down about the impending loss of the company of the Dunedain. Yes, she would miss them but for God's sake, woman, was it really such a big deal? It was only when, after some hours of trying to ignore the blindingly obvious, she finally had to admit to herself that it was Halladan in particular that she would miss the most and whose departure she was least looking forward to, that a growing suspicion began to start niggling away at her. Try as she might, she could not shake off the quiet sadness she felt at the thought of when she would finally be left alone amongst the elves once more.

That yet another small group peeled off from the company two days later did nothing to alleviate it either. Even Halladan commented on it later that night as they sat together by the fire, conversation and song going on around them.

"You seem quiet tonight, Pen-ii."

"Yes, I know. I apologise. It is just that…" She paused. "Oh, it is nothing. I am being silly."

Halladan stopped working the tip of his blade into the shaped piece of wood in his hand and looked at her.

"Tell me."

She shrugged. "Since Bregion and the others left and then more of you this morning… It made me aware that I will have to say farewell to all of you soon enough, that is all." She shot him a brief smile, as if trying to intimate that she was laughing at her own foolishness.

"Why, will you miss us?" Arvain had overheard and now interrupted, grinning.

"Of course she will, Arvain!" Faelon responded cheerily. "She would be a fool not to!"

"Yes, I will miss you," Penny said with a quiet seriousness to no one in particular. "How could I not?"

She studiously avoided looking at Halladan and instead inspected the grass beside her as if fascinated by the glow the fire threw onto each leaf. Thus she missed the look shared by Faelon and Arvain as each had caught her tone and the faintly amused air both of them wore. Halladan caught it, though, and did not seem to find it quite so amusing.

"We do not have to say our farewells for some time yet, Pen-ii" he said. "And besides which, I will travel with you as far as Imladris."

"Oh."

If Penny sounded a little surprised it was because the last time this had been discussed, Arvain was to have accompanied her as well.

"We can spare one, but not both," Faelon said with a wink as she looked up. "Who knows what may or may not have travelled north up the Greenway ahead of us, or slunk west across the mountains."

"I did wonder about that," Penny murmured quietly. "I did not want to keep the two of you from more important duties." Her glance flicked between the pair of them. "I mean, if you feel you might be needed elsewhere…"

Arvain opened his mouth to say something, but Halladan cut across him.

"It is our duty for at least one of us to see you safely to Imladris."

"I know, but—"

"Why, do you think she would not be kept safe in our company?" Lindir came to sit next to Pen-ii. He was barely suppressing a grin.

"You know that is not the issue, Lindir."

Faelon and Arvain suddenly seemed very amused once more.

"It is a fair question, Halladan," Celebdor now chimed in on the other side of him.

"After all, we managed to keep her safe and whole on the journey south, did we not?" Lindir continued.

"As her guardians—," Halladan began.

"As her guardians, your duty is to see her safe, and she will be safe enough with us, Halladan."

Penny missed the hint of a wink and the grin on Lindir's face as he glanced at Arvain but Halladan's eyes narrowed. He sighed heavily and could barely restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"That said: would your father have ridden with her to our door? Very possibly, yes," Celebdor conceded.

"Oh, I am not so sure," Lindir countered. "What do you think, Faelon?"

But Faelon had no time to reply and was too busy trying not to smirk into his beer to have been able to respond had he wanted to. At last Arvain felt he should step in and defend his brother.

"We are fulfilling Father's duty by Pen-ii…," he began.

"Oh, indeed," Celebdor conceded, "I can understand why Halladan feels that—"

Penny was looking at Halladan, taking in his resigned yet irritated demeanour. She was a little confused, but also wondering if she was interpreting this all correctly. If it were anyone else she might think it was gentle ribbing of 'possible alternate motivations on their part' but that was patently ridiculous. Far more likely that they were laughing at Halladan's being a stickler for convention, the 'sensible and perhaps overly serious elder brother' aspect of his personality; it was a joke at Halladan's expense and nothing more. … Right?

"Yes, yes, of course, of course," Lindir replied in a somewhat over-conciliatory manner. "Do not rile yourself, my boy," he added, turning to Halladan in a mock placatory attitude (though Halladan was far from riled). Then, perhaps aware he had pushed things a little too far in Penny's presence, Lindir turned to her now. "Do not mind us, Pen-ii. Halladan is a man of principle, that is all. He believes in tradition and follows social propriety to the letter." He grinned in Halladan's direction. "Is that not so, Halladan?"

As Arvain suddenly choked on his ale and had to have his back patted by Faelon, Penny noticed the skin round Halladan's eyes tighten ever so slightly and the muscles in his jaw flex just once, but then he cleared his throat and looked about him in a deliberate attempt to show he was not going to rise to the ribbing he was getting and instead asked Lindir for a song. For a moment Lindir hesitated, as if tempted to tell Halladan not to change the subject, but a look from Faelon told him that he had probably pushed things to their limit as it was. So with a gracious and cheerful 'of course', he jumped to his feet and regaled them with a long ballad that Penny had heard before but was happy to hear again if only because Lindir was such a beautiful singer.

Earlier that day they had forded the Swanfleet and were now technically in Eregion proper. They had camped on a promontory above an escarpment, the land below falling away to the fens where the Swanfleet meandered its way to join the Greyflood. None of that could be seen too well in the dark, of course, but when Penny and Halladan went for their nightly walk later that evening they found some large rocks near the edge of the steep cliff and clambered on top of them, Halladan leaving his stick at the bottom and then, when he had reached the top, turning and kneeling on the flat top of the rock to hold out his hand to Penny as she followed him up. They sat side by side, Halladan leaning back on his hands, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, and Penny sitting with her arms wrapped round her knees. The whole sky stretched out ahead of them. There was still just the barest hint of a very pale glow where it kissed the land - the last vestiges of the sunset - but above was a great dark expanse filled with stars. Being a London girl used to the light pollution of modern times, Penny still found it a stunning sight to be able to see so many all at once.

It was not that things had been awkward between them as they had walked, but both had seemed more preoccupied with their own thoughts than they had been in each other's company for quite some days and even now they still sat in, albeit comfortable, silence. Whatever Halladan might have been musing upon Penny had no idea, but on her part the earlier banter round the fire had only served to highlight her own growing awareness of her situation since she felt that she had been close to misinterpreting their reasoning behind ripping the piss out of Halladan until Lindir had given his explanation. That fact alone had set her thinking.

Ever since Bregion and the others had first left, ever since Galadriel had removed much of her burden and emotional distress from her shoulders, she had been unable to ignore the effect Halladan had on her: how aware she was of him as a physical presence, the way she could not help but break into a smile whenever she caught his eye, how she felt instantly calmed and pleased by his presence, how she looked out for him in the camp or the general company if they were not together. He was a handsome man. She had noticed that the first time she had met him. Hell, they all were, some more than others admittedly, but even in the most rugged and burly of the Dunedain you could clearly see their elven heritage in their features: a certain nobility and innate beauty that set them apart from your average mortal. But with Halladan it was more than that, more than mere 'awareness that he was easy on the eye and then some.'

As they sat together, saying nothing but all too aware of each other's presence, of the faint hint of warmth of each other's bodies even though they were not touching, and as they stared out at the stars with that sense of two people lost within an infinity of creation, Penny finally admitted to herself what she had been striving to avoid even considering for the last few days.

She had fallen in love with him.

It was as simple as that; as simple and as complicated and as unutterably stupid as that. It was entirely the wrong thing to have done, of course, but at the same time it was not like she had chosen to do so or even if she could have stopped herself had she realised it was happening.

Sitting there like that with him she was truly aware for the first time just how much she would miss doing this sort of thing once he was gone. Yes, she could do the same with anyone else, but it was not the fact of what she was doing so much as who she was doing it with. It was him: _his _company, _his_ friendship, just… _him_ that she would miss, and miss terribly. It was not even that she simply fancied him or 'had the hots' for him either. That would have been easier to cope with in a way. No, it was far, far deeper than that - one of those things that are hard to describe to anyone else and yet deep within yourself you just know 'this is it.' Your soul mate, the one you can sit in silence with for hours and they can still guess your thoughts, the one you want to be with for the rest of your life, with whom you feel complete and without whom you know life would never quite feel the same, as if something was missing, as if everything was a little bit colder than it had been.

Now that she had finally admitted that much to herself, she also now knew she would be horribly worried about him when he was eventually off doing whatever it was Rangers did in the wilds, especially with his dodgy leg and potential for flashbacks when reminded of previous battles. Perhaps this was what it was like for the women of the Dunedain that waited home for long periods all the time, not knowing where their menfolk were or what they might be facing. Hell, wasn't that exactly the case for Tadion's father? Rode off to do his tour of duty and was bludgeoned to death by a troll's club three weeks later.

She felt cold inside all of a sudden, and not a little unwell.

Yeah, she would worry herself stupid about him when he left, that was for damn certain. She would worry about Arvain and Faelon and Tadion as well, about all of them that she had got to know over the last few months, but it was the very fact that she felt so differently about Halladan that told her the truth of it.

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Damn and blast it! What the hell was she thinking?! He was her guardian for a start, and she was not entirely sure how social mores worked in that regard, but she was fairly certain that marrying your ward would not be the norm…

Oh, shit, that was a point: marriage. Halladan himself had said in Minas Tirith that to stay unmarried, unattached without males around you to protect you was impossible in their society or at least unheard of. She did not want to marry a man who did not know her situation, and yet how could they reasonably go around and explain her situation to people? It could not be any ordinary northerner, if only because her Sindarin was far stronger than her Westron ever would be, let alone her natural sympathies to a more elvish way of life, but surely a Dunadan was out of the question. They were of noble blood, often married their own (though not always – Bregion's wife and Tadion's mother were both non-Dunedain), and she felt sure someone as really quite bizarre as her would not be looked on as a favourable match, for all she had the patronage of the elves of Imladris and the family of Halbarad, hell, even the King himself. Marriage against your will was, of course, a no-no, but these things were still done by a process of careful selection and veto. She did not want to marry someone she did not love, and how could she love another if…?

But she was getting WAY ahead of herself here. That she would even ever meet a man who might meet all the criteria necessary, let alone fall in love with him, was so unlikely as to be ridiculous. She had already realised that some time ago. She would live the life of a spinster: the lame duck watching as Arvain, Halladan, Tadion and whoever else settled down and started families of their own.

That hurt, now that she really allowed herself to look at it, really bloody hurt and not out of any sense of self-pity but simply at the thought of having to watch Halladan pass her by, as assuredly he would. After all, he was the son of an important man. The eldest son of an important man, in fact, and a Dunadan to boot, and while he had no betrothed waiting for him and, from what she could tell, no sweetheart either, someone of his stature, good looks and general character, would have the women falling at his feet.

He was hopelessly and utterly out of her league.

The harsh realisation of the truth of her situation almost brought her to tears, which was so ridiculously stupid that she felt a wave of hot rage at herself rush through her and she clenched her arms a bit tighter around her knees and clamped her jaw so tight it almost hurt.

Idiot!

Idiot, idiot, stupid, bloody, ridiculous, pathetic, fat-headed _IDIOT_!

She would just have to grin and bear it. Above all she would have to do her level best not to change how she behaved with him, however much it might hurt her. If she could at least maintain their friendship that would be something since she valued it highly, but more importantly she knew well enough he valued it in return. It was not his fault she had fallen for him, and if, as seemed clear, he found her company and her quiet, non-judgemental support some help and benefit still, well then so be it. She would just have to hope her feelings faded or at least became easier to ignore with time. That said, perhaps it was for the best that he would be leaving in a few weeks. Then she would have time enough to try and work on accepting that her life would never include him as anything more than a friend and that that was an end to it.

It still hurt like hell to realise all this, though.

That depressing conclusion was hardly conducive to scintillating conversation, and she was quiet all the way back to her tent. When Halladan stayed her gently with his hand on her arm as she bade him goodnight and asked her, concern on his face, if anything was amiss, she did the best she could to give him a reassuring smile, to look straight into his deep grey eyes that caught the starlight so beautifully and insist that she was fine. He held her gaze for a moment, as if perhaps assessing the truth of her words, then nodded once and smiled by way of goodnight.

And she could not help but respond to his smile and tried to ignore the quiet flip in her stomach as she did so.

Gah! IDIOT!

Of course it was the smile and the grey eyes that won out over her internal monologue of calling herself every name under the sun. She had very pleasant dreams that night and found it a little hard to look Halladan in the face at breakfast.

It was going to be a hard few days, she suspected, until she had worked out how best to cope with this newfound self-revelation.

For all she had promised herself she would not change in her attitude towards him, she went out of her way that day to seek out Mireth's company and encourage plenty of chatter around her when Halladan was with her. She sat for a while with Erestor at the elvish fire in the evening, struggling to use some of her Westron until he laughingly told her that it was really no use and she might as well give herself a break. Halladan seemed pleased by all this, taking it as a sign she was slowly becoming more her usual self, but even he could see the times throughout the day when, loud talk all round them, she seemed distracted and lost in her thoughts.

Eventually, late that night at the Dunedain fire, he nudged her and quietly whispered about going for a walk, and for a moment she hesitated. He looked at her, that soft smile on his face that she now acknowledged did strange things to her insides if she concentrated on it for too long, and she knew that, try as she might, she would grab any opportunity for those shared private moments in his company. All too soon it would come to an end. All too soon they would be back in Imladris and he would be off in the wilds, or back with the Dunedain, and then one day he would find his match. No more long walks together, no more private talks or sharing their thoughts and troubles. No more worrying about each other, looking out for each other, or not in the same way, perhaps. He would always be there as a friend, and she for him, but he would have a wife and family to worry about him and care for him properly.

She shook her head a little as if to chase away the thoughts racing through it and said a walk would be most delightful.

The days continued as much they had, and Penny made the best of it that she could. It was all she could do. She focused on the now – on the pleasure of his companionship and on the support and friendship that he showed her - and tried to forget about how it would all change in a couple of weeks. She had him till Imladris, and she held on to that thought intending to cherish every last moment with him that she could. The hardest part was trying not to read anything into the slightest gesture or reaction on his part. When they clambered up rocks, stepped over small streams or over fallen trees and he held her hand in his or partly caught her if she stumbled, she had to concentrate hard on not focusing on the sensation of his skin against hers or his hands round her waist. Now she better understood her discomfort and awkwardness at holding him round the waist when they had ridden together – it had been an unconscious acknowledgement on how intimate a gesture it had seemed given the feelings she already had for him (though she had little realised it at the time). It was all too easy, though, to wonder if he held her eye a little too often, or smiled a little too readily when he caught sight of her. She caught herself doing it time and again and began to get really very annoyed with herself because that way madness lay, and she knew it.

'Stop tormenting yourself, woman! Just bloody stop it! Forget it! Just don't even _think_ about it!

Never in a million years! … With bells on! … And then some!'

In the early morning of the fourth day after Bregion left, Penny emerged from her tent, bleary eyed and still a little sleepy, to find the sun was not yet fully risen and that the camp was surrounded by a low mist yet to be burned off by the morning's warmth. They had camped on a low hill the night before and the mist filled the moorland around them making them feel as if they were on an island. Away to their right loomed the foothills and mountains that had been ever bending westwards, coming to meet them as the company journeyed north. Now, in the morning's glow, the peaks were catching the sun and shining, in particular the three largest that were near enough due east of the camp: Caradhras, Celebdil and Fanuidhol. They were camped within sight of the way to the pass that Penny had crossed so many months before: Moria was exactly due East of them. It was here, then, that the company would split in two with Galadriel and Celeborn leading the Galadhrim back to Lothlorien across the mountains and Elrond's household heading on northwards back to Imladris; but they did not want to part company just yet and so they would tarry here a while – for a week at most – and take their farewells of each other at their leisure.

It was no accident that they were in Eregion either – a place that many of the elves of both Imladris and Lothlorien knew well of old since after it had fallen, razed to the ground by Sauron himself, while many had sailed West never to return, those that remained had gone to live either in Imladris or else had joined Galadriel and Celeborn and travelled over the mountains. For the next several days, many were the small sorties into the surrounding landscape by groups of elves, revisiting familiar places, albeit much altered, in a final farewell since many would never set foot here again. As for Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond, they spent much of their time together, particularly in the evenings and long into the night, in quiet consultation with each other both about the future but also remembering their long pasts and all that they had seen. This was the last time they would all be together, for even when Galadriel herself would come west across the mountains to set sail at last Celeborn would stay behind in Lothlorien.

It was a strange time, therefore, with an air of both relaxation, since they were no longer travelling for the first time in weeks, but also of gentle sadness, of something coming to an end and that something being more than their mere travelling together. That morning yet more Dunedain left, this time a larger group and leaving in two separate directions – due east and north-east – and more would leave over the following days.

In the meantime the sparring and training picked up apace for the rapidly dwindling number of men that remained, if only because there was more time to do so now there was no setting or striking of the camp to be done every day, let alone hours of travelling in between. There was also time to head off into the countryside for hours at a time and hunt. The first night there Dunedain and elves came back with fish, rabbits and several brace of birds. The next day Halladan, Arvain, Tadion and Faelon all intended to ride out for most of the day along with whomever from the elves wished to join them. They dragged Penny along too and she thoroughly enjoyed herself, Halladan keeping her company as they entered a large wood and the others disappeared in amongst the trees. It was they who spotted the hart and chased it. Penny did try to insist that Halladan join them, worrying that he was spoiling his enjoyment just to keep her company, but he laughed and said he would not leave her to get lost in the trees by herself and nor would he ask her to join him at speed in such an environment either.

"It is enough to have the change of scene, is it not?"

Penny smiled and agreed that was very true. Secretly she was just glad to have him alone for a while, though her secret pleasure was thrown a little when she caught herself trying to convince herself that he could have just as easily joined the hunt or insisted she do so, but had used her lack of skill as a rider as an excuse to be alone with her.

Idiot!

They lunched beside a small stream on the near side of the wood, the hart having been hunted down not too far from the camp in the end – not more than an a half hour's ride – so it could be taken back and butchered before the innards spoiled the meat. Dealing with it all at the camp was easier than partially dressing it then and there, if only because so much of the animal would be used – right down to the hide, sinews and even the head boiled to make soup. Several were the chuckles at Penny's expense as she grimaced on having this piece of information explained to her, even as the animal was lifted onto the back of a horse, two Dunedain riding off back to camp with it.

As they ate, Faelon produced a large sac of wine and Tadion two small bowls which were then passed around to be shared as impromptu cups. It was not a situation Penny had encountered before and it did not even occur to her there would be any particular etiquette attached to it. Halladan, taking a good draught of the wine, handed the bowl on to Penny and she thanked him, drank in her turn, and passed it on to Celebdor sitting next to her only to realise that Arvain was grinning, Tadion smirking and Faelon and the few elves with them seemed a little surprised..

"What—?"

"It is nothing, Pen-ii," Halladan muttered quietly. She looked at him and caught his eye. "Truly. Do not concern yourself." He was giving her a reassuring smile but even she could see that he seemed a little uncomfortable.

Only when everyone's attention had moved on did Celebdor lean towards her and whisper quietly in her ear.

"You should have turned the bowl, Pen-ii."

Now that she looked she could see that everyone who received a bowl carefully turned it a little so as not to drink in the same spot as the one who had just drunk from it.

"Oh."

There would be bathing for the ellith that evening and already when they got back to the camp some hours later several could be seen making their way towards the edge of the hill where a spring began only a few yards from the top, the water coursing down over rocky streams and small waterfalls to a small pool at the base of the hill in amongst some trees. Penny quickly excused herself, found Mireth in their tent and joined her in gathering up their things for washing; as she did so she idly dropped the matter of sharing bowls of drink into the conversation, wondering why one should turn the bowl before taking your turn to drink. Mireth seemed both surprised and amused that Penny should not know the convention.

"It is a very intimate act to share the same place on a bowl or cup that someone else has drunk from, Pen-ii, no? It is the sort of thing that lovers might do or, no, since it is so very much a deliberately intimate thing, more something a husband might do with his wife on their wedding day once they are alone together."

Penny could not stop the rush of blood to her cheeks. Mireth's smile broadened, intrigued now, and her eyes twinkled with something close to mischief.

"Why? What happened on the hunt today?"

"Nothing."

Penny had replied a little too quickly and Mireth laughed out loud.

"Oh, indeed? I feel sure Celebdor will tell me if you will not."

Penny sighed, exasperated and embarrassed now she fully understood the import of her action, especially since she did not doubt that it would be all over the camp by sundown, yet another gossipy little tale of the ignorant mortal bumpkin making an arse of herself that the elves who knew her would delight in. Dammit, she had really not missed situations like this and had thought them long behind her! Apparently not.

She explained what had occurred, realising she had little choice but to do so. Mireth seemed highly amused by something even if she also quickly reassured Penny that no harm had been done, that it was an honest mistake and everyone would have understood it as such.

"Even so…," she murmured and trailed off, bending down to pick up her toiletries and drying cloths.

"Even so what?"

"Oh, nothing. Only that sometimes moments surprise even those least expecting them."

Penny furrowed her brows at her. What the hell was that meant to mean?

But she had no time to find out because Mireth was already hurrying out of the tent, cloths and soaps in hand, calling Penny to follow her if she wanted a bathe before supper, and by the time Penny had grabbed her things and made it outside, they had already been joined by several other ellith also on their way to bathe and Mireth was deep in conversation with one of the female Galadhrim.

The hart had been spit-roasted over the large elvish fire, Naurdir slicing chunks off for anyone who wanted it. Penny was pleased that she had missed the 'treat' of the hart being hung from a tree, skinned and gutted. Butchery in the raw was something she had still not quite got used to and there was a healthy dose of snickering in her direction when she said as much at supper. Still, roast venison made a very pleasant change from vegetable stew, cured meat and fruit, and Penny was not the only one to say so. The hobbits were particularly vocal on that point, and were determined to go rabbiting the following day.

Lindir did at one point offer Penny a drink from his cup, then theatrically slapped his hand to his forehead, asking himself loudly what he was thinking and exaggeratedly turned it round before offering it to her once more. Mireth said his name scoldingly, but there was loud snickering from Tadion and even Arvain bit back a grin. Halladan, though, seemed to be hesitating from giving a reaction just yet, watching Penny instead, perhaps worried how she might react to such teasing. Penny merely raised an eyebrow.

"Any more of that, Lindir, and I will tip it over your head. I am not sure what ale would do for elven hair, but I cannot imagine you would appreciate it." Lindir was laughing already. "It was an honest mistake. How was I to know people were so sensitive about such things? Ridiculous! A cup is a cup is a cup. Still, at least I know now. It might have been polite for someone to explain the finer subtleties of cup-sharing etiquette to me beforehand instead of letting me make a complete fool of myself."

There were conciliatory murmurings at that, with Celebdor, Arvain and Faelon all amongst those nodding and holding their hands up, looking suitably apologetic. Halladan, however, was grinning a 'that's my girl - take no prisoners' sort of grin. She caught his eye and shrugged and grinned as if to say 'well, that's right, isn't it?' and he just threw his head back and laughed.

"Ah, it is good to see the old Pen-ii back once more."

"That it is, Halladan," Lindir replied, still chuckling. "That it is indeed."

Penny had worried about walking alone with Halladan that evening after the incident with the cup, but instead Lindir pulling her leg about it (and her response) meant any residual awkwardness had been dissipated. Instead they talked for quite some time, Penny reminiscing about her family for a while but then Halladan surprising her by reciprocating for once and letting slip something of what he had had to put up with from his brothers when they were boys.

"As the eldest, especially after Mother… well, I had to help Father bring them up. Here, take my hand a moment - the moss on that fallen trunk could… There we are. The two of them were constantly fighting, and when they were not fighting they were always up to something. Hirvell had a temper on him, would fly off the handle at the slightest thing, always doing something in the heat of the moment and then regretting it at his leisure afterwards - and Arvain…!" He laughed. "Ai, Arvain would constantly drive him to distraction. He knew exactly how to get him from calm to infuriated within mere moments!" He laughed some more, then slowly fell quiet for some minutes. "I miss him," he said simply.

"Of course you do," Penny replied quietly. There was a pause. "Tell me about Arvain's misspent youth."

He gave a half-chuckle. "Where shall I start?"

He then regaled her with a tale that, as he put it, summed up Arvain and Hirvell's relationship as young brothers in a nutshell. He also made it clear it was the sort of thing that happened all the time and, as he spoke, it quickly became clear to Penny that if that was indeed the case, their childhood had been nothing if not eventful.

Hirvell had been around fourteen and Arvain around eleven or so. The pair had gone swimming and Arvain, ever the joker and one to seize any opportunity that presented itself, had leapt from the water, grabbing his brother's clothes as well as his own before running as fast as he could and then hiding in a tree so his brother could not find him no matter how hard he searched or how loud he yelled, cursed or swore terrible retribution. Eventually, with the sun getting low in the sky and in imminent danger of getting into trouble with both their Father _and_ Halladan for getting back late, Hirvell was forced to walk home with little more than a couple of large leaves to cover his dignity. This would have been bad enough except that on his way back he ran into two of his second cousins, one of whom he had had a bit of thing about at the time. It was the sort of thing that could scar any boy on the edge of manhood for life, of course, and needless to say Arvain got the pummelling of his life when he finally got up the courage to come home (or rather when Halladan had gone out looking for him and had had to drag him home).

Penny was in hysterics by the time Halladan had finished.

"Oh, that is nothing," he assured her.

"And they were like this all the time?!"

"All the time, I swear it! Is it any wonder I grew up so fast? Had I not and there been three of us behaving like this, I think it would have driven Father mad!"

Revenge is a dish best served cold, or at least that seemed to be a motto that Hirvell lived by. He had never forgotten the humiliation of coming face to face with the girl he had been sweet on whilst wearing nothing but two dock leaves. Thus when a few years later he found out Arvain had his first teen crush on a local girl he persuaded Arvain, while in the guise of 'older brother who is now a young man and thus mature and above suspicion', that she was waiting in a certain barn to exchange love tokens and possibly grant Arvain his first kiss. Arvain, eager and foolish as young love will be, ran hot-foot to the barn armed with a clean face and a bunch of wild flowers - only to be confronted by Faelon's prize bull when he got there. Needless to say, one bull-skewered barn and an 'excuse me while I run home screaming' Arvain later, Hirvell was hauled over the coals by his father and made to mend the holes in the walls of the barn.

They were walking back to the camp by this point, and Penny had to stop for a moment to catch her breath and wipe her eyes, she was laughing so hard. Halladan was grinning, clearly enjoying reliving the memories (freely admitting they were funny now in hindsight but unbelievably cataclysmic at the time) but also to see Penny in stitches.

When they said goodnight to each other at her tent, as was their wont, Penny tried not to notice that he seemed to hold her hand for a moment longer than seemed necessary. She had to stop picking up things that were not there, stop reading into things that held no significance. She tried not to let her annoyance at herself ruin her good mood, because it had actually been a lovely day, and Halladan's stories had been hysterical.

The next day, first thing after breakfast, Penny sought out Erestor to ask if he had any spare parchment and a quill.

"Of course. You wish to do some written lessons?"

"No, I… I want to write a letter."

Erestor looked up at her questioningly, a smile on his face, as he bent to rummage through a trunk in his tent. Elladan was lying on a bedroll nearby pretending not to listen as he thumbed through a book of poetry.

"To Meresel? Would it not be better to wait till you reach Imladris? It would have to wait till then for it to be sent with a messenger, unless you were to give it to one of the Galadhrim, of course, since they might—"

"In truth I… was thinking of writing a letter to my mother."

Erestor stared at her and even Elladan looked up from his book in some surprise. There was a moment of silence.

"It is a stupid idea, isn't it? I just… well, you did say if anything occurred to me, and I think it might help. It might sound ridiculous but…"

Erestor was smiling softly. "It is not foolish at all, Pen-ii. I think it is a very good idea indeed. You may have all the parchment you need."

So Penny, armed with a roll of parchment, a stoppered crystal phial of ink and Erestor's spare quill, disappeared off to the far end of the camp where the horses were stationed and there, near the edge of the hill, was a small outcrop of flat rocks beside the trees above the spring. She stayed there all morning, sitting cross-legged on one of the rocks and spent most of the time staring out at the countryside trying to marshal her thoughts, occasionally brushing away tears, but rarely writing anything down.

After two hours or more she heard her name being called and looked round to see Halladan coming towards her.

"Here you are. I have been looking all over the camp for you. At last I met Lord Elrond, and Elladan had told him what you were up to. It took some asking around to find where you had hidden yourself." He paused. "I do not wish to intrude. If you wish to be alone…?"

"No, no, you are most welcome." She sighed. "It is not as if I have written much anyway."

"Oh?"

"I have got as far as 'Dear Mother' and that is about it."

Halladan chuckled then caught her sad and serious expression. "My apologies."

"Do not apologise. It _is_ funny in a way. I just do not know how to put it into words. It is so… ridiculous. All of it. So ridiculous and huge and…"

"Just tell her what you want her to know, the things that, if she were truly to read it, would be the most important for you to say to her."

She nodded. "Yes. I keep becoming lost in the magnitude of it all." She realised he was smiling. "What?"

"Nothing. It is just that…"

"What?"

"When I hear you use words like 'magnitude' it makes me realise how far your Sindarin has advanced even since we first met."

"Oh shut up."

"I mean it!" He laughed.

"I know you do." She smiled. "Thank you."

He smiled back. "I will not disturb you any longer. But be aware it will be the midday meal soon enough." He glanced up to check the position of the sun. "And it might be as well to spend some time with the Dunedain today, if only because Tadion leaves on the morrow."

"Oh, I had forgotten that."

"I thought perhaps you might have done. Anyway, if you have not come to eat in, say, an hour I shall bring some food for you." He turned to leave.

"No… Halladan?"

He stopped and looked back.

"Stay. Please?"

He smiled. "But of course."

He did not join her on the rock, but instead sat on the grass at the base of it, leaning up against it. He reached into a pouch that hung from his belt and pulled out the carving he was working on, now small enough to be held in the hand and taking a definite shape. He took out a small knife and continued to work at it in silence. Above him Penny was finally scratching out her message, in English: her last goodbye and if not a full explanation then at least some sort of reassurance to her mother that she was safe and well. Occasionally Halladan would glance up at the sun, checking the time and then perhaps up to her, taking in the quiet intensity as she wrote; then he would go back to his carving. After a little over an hour he stirred at last, slipping the piece of wood back into the pouch and belting his knife.

"Time to eat, Pen-ii. Do you want to stay here and have me bring you something or—?"

He stopped short as he finally stood up straight and caught sight of her properly at last, reading back what she had written so far and tears forming drips off the end of her nose.

"Ai, Pen-ii," he said softly, stepping towards her, looking as if, were it not for the fact that she was planted on a rock he would have taken her into his arms and held her close. She glanced up and smiled in spite of her distress, bringing a hand up to wipe at her face.

"Forgive me. You do not need to concern yourself. Truly, I need to do this. It will help. I know it will. Perhaps only in some small way, but…" She shrugged and trailed off.

He nodded, though his brow was still furrowed.

"Are you finished or…?"

"Not quite… Very nearly…" She glanced back down at the parchment. "…I think."

"Do you want me to wait a little longer and then we both go to eat together?"

She looked up at him gratefully. He nodded once more with an understanding smile, then retook his seat on the grass and worked on his carving until, a little while later, he heard a quiet sigh above him.

"Finished."

This time when he stood up he held out his hand for her to take as she slid off the rock. Once she was on the grass beside him there was a moment when she held the rolled up parchment in her hand and simply looked at it numbly. Halladan slid one arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him and resting his chin upon her head; as he did so she turned into him, holding him and struggling not to burst into tears against his chest, just clinging onto him until the emotion subsided a little. She pulled away from him, rather self-conscious all of a sudden and not wanting to stay overlong in his arms. She wiped the heel of her hand hard against either cheek, though in truth the tears were in her eyes and not yet fallen. She sniffed and nodded then blew out hard and cleared her throat.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

"Yes. Thank you. I… Thank you for keeping me company."

"No need to thank me, Pen-ii. You should know that by now."

Dammit, and there she went again with the stomach flip as he caught her eye and smiled, and she could not help but smile back, even now with memories of Mum so strong in her head!

They set off back towards the horses and thence the camp and the midday meal but first making a detour to Penny's tent where she left the parchment (and ran a wet cloth over her face) and then to Erestor's tent; since there was no reply, Halladan rather than Penny ducked inside quickly (in the event of indisposed and partially dressed ellyn, as unlikely as that might have been) and left the quill and ink on top of the trunk beside Erestor's bedroll.

If Penny was subdued as she ate and had little appetite, it was perhaps understandable. It seemed word of what she had been up to had indeed travelled since not only did Glorfindel call them over to join him when he caught sight of them (with he, Lindir and Elrohir all giving Penny sympathetic looks as she sat down), but Arvain actually stood up from where he had been with some of the Dunedain and came to sit beside her on the other side of Halladan, giving her a smile as he squeezed her hand.

It was very kind of them, but Penny honestly felt like she wanted to be alone right at that moment. Fairly soon, therefore, she muttered an excuse and made to stand only to be checked by the arrival of Tadion and Faelon.

"What, leaving already, Pen-ii? But I have hardly seen you this day and I leave tomorrow!"

Tadion was all cheerful smiles.

"And why in Arda should she want to spend more time with you than she had to, Tadion?" Arvain was grinning as he spoke.

"Come now, cousin, that is a little harsh, is it not? I do not think Pen-ii is so ungracious as to not consider me something of a friend by now. Is that not so, Pen-ii?"

His smile was wide, warm and genuine, and Penny did her best to respond in kind.

"Do not forget Mireth wanted to see you," Halladan said, turning to Penny.

"She did?" She blinked and then caught his rather knowing look and the insistent expression of his raised eyebrows. "Oh, yes, yes, of course, thank you, yes, she did." Penny got to her feet, grateful for the 'out' Halladan had presented her with.

"What, now?" Tadion was all smiling regret. "Ah, well, this evening then, perhaps. I mean to take some little revenge if I can on Arvain's telling tales of my youth before we part company, Pen-ii."

"Oh, indeed?" Penny's grin was wide now. "You can add to the few tales I already heard from Halladan last night, in that case."

"Oh?" Arvain's head shot up and he looked between Penny and Halladan with some alarm.

"Yes, he told me the tale of Faelon's bull among other things."

Arvain turned a rather interesting colour and spluttered in embarrassment and fury while Tadion near enough fell backwards with laughter, Lindir and Glorfindel joining him and Elrohir grinning widely; Halladan was chuckling like a thing demented. Penny, even managing a giggle, practically skipped off into the crowd as behind her Arvain could be heard roaring at his brother with Tadion still hooting with laughter over the din.

Mireth had indeed suggested washing some clothes that afternoon (though Penny had not told Halladan that) and Penny now took her up on it, glad to have something to occupy herself with. The pool at the base of the hill was cool and pleasant, the trees reflected in the water as it rippled past them and then trickled over the far edge slowly and down into the woods via a tumbling stream. Mireth busily inspected Penny's two dresses before she washed them, muttering about how they were looking travel-worn and tired and how she would need to have new ones once they reached Imladris. Penny, well aware how much work that would involve, suggested she try to make her own. Mireth did a valiant job of not laughing out loud at the suggestion and merely said that 'perhaps it might be best if Pen-ii were to help and then she could learn how it was done.'

By the time they finally got back up the hill it was edging towards mid-afternoon and it was immediately apparent that the Dunedain were collecting horses and making preparations to set up their sparring ground. In the time it took for Mireth, Penny and those ellith with them to hang up their dresses and undershifts from lines running between two of the ellith's tents, the sparring, training and exercise was well underway. Mireth suggested they go and watch for a while and Penny agreed readily, glad to have the distraction as well as something to occupy others and which she could be a part of while she thought through what she wanted to do with her letter. When they got to the far side of the camp they found that several of the elves had joined the Dunedain as was their wont, if only to pass the time. The hobbits were also back from their day out and had a good time of it by all accounts. Glorfindel had gone with them as well as Naurdir and a few others from Imladris, and they had all come back with enough rabbits to make up a fair amount of stew.

"That and we found several wild cherry trees in full fruit," Pippin explained as Mireth and Penny sat down next to them. "We brought back bags full of them!"

"That is a sight I shall never forget," Sam conceded, "Lord Glorfindel, jewels at his breast and on his shoulders, shinning up a tree like a squirrel."

Mireth laughed loudly (though Penny's laughter was slightly delayed while she double-checked she had understood properly with Frodo).

"I shall tell him you called him that, shall I?"

Sam flushed a little but also looked a touch defiant.

"He told him as much to his face," Merry explained, laughing.

"It just slipped out," Sam muttered, getting redder by the second, "before I had time to stop myself."

And it seemed word had spread because even as they talked they heard a shout from those waiting their turn to gallop at the swinging tree trunk of "Your turn next, Squirrel Glorfindel!" followed by loud laughter.

"Lindir," Mireth said, lifting her chin to indicate where Lindir was sitting astride his horse alongside Glorfindel, grinning widely. "I might have guessed."

Penny watched idly for an hour or so, sometimes focusing her attention on what was going on, but otherwise off in her own world with memories of her mother and her childhood. However it had to be said she did less thinking and more watching when Halladan and Arvain appeared to join their cousin, all three raising their hands and grinning in Penny's direction.

It was not long after that that it all went horribly wrong.

Halladan, normally a dab hand at this, seemed momentarily fixated by Tadion and another Dunedain both galloping at the branch at the same time, both riding towards him as he awaited his turn and both diving either side of the branch as it swung to and fro – a manoeuvre that clearly showed great skill (and, frankly, not a little insanity as far as Penny was concerned) given it involved split second timing to avoid being hit in the head by the piece of wood as it recoiled from the blow it received from one or other of the men as they thundered past it or else the other man's blade. Both men were roaring as they went, not something that everyone did or not every time, but every now and then it happened as if the person was trying to gee themselves up and get in the mood, or (very possibly in Tadion's case) just to be plain daft. The sun was getting low and the glint and gleam of the two mens' swords, raised high in their hands as they had ridden hard and fast towards Halladan, had been quite something and for a moment Halladan seemed mesmerised. Then he shook himself slightly and set off towards the target in his turn, quickly gaining speed with his sword low in his hand at first…

But he never raised it to strike the wood. Indeed just before he reached the target it was as if the horse were leading him rather than the other way about he seemed so still and stiff in his saddle all of a sudden. Watching him intently, perhaps more intently than she had watched anyone else (as might be expected), Penny noticed the change in him instantly and sat a little more upright suddenly, her heart beating fast, alarmed now and not wholly sure why she should be so.

And then in that same split second he had reached the target, which was still swinging wildly after the last blows it had received, but he was not even aware of it and was riding straight for it, going to be knocked clean from his saddle and even those watching could see it coming because many jumped to their feet and several shouted out all at once. Penny had leapt to her feet along with them even as she watched him now suddenly come to but barely in time to take in where he was or the fact that the wood was so close to him.

He ducked, lunging sideways, but not quickly enough.

The huge piece of wood caught him broadsides though not enough to dislodge him – his quick reflexes had spared him that much – but enough for him to crumple slightly from the blow and even Penny could hear the loud, sharp groan from behind his teeth. He was slumped forward in pain, clinging onto the horse's neck to keep himself on the animal as it still raced away at speed. He said a word to the animal and it started slowing almost immediately but he did not wait for it to come to a stop before swinging his leg over its rump and sliding out of the saddle, stumbling slightly as he hit the ground and holding his side and wincing as he did so.

Mireth was running to him, suddenly in professional healer mode, as were Arvain, Faelon and Tadion. But so was Penny, before she even realised she was doing so, running hell for leather as fast as her legs could carry her, her heart beating so hard she thought it would burst; and once she realised what she was doing it was too late anyway but she also knew she did not give two monkeys if it was the done thing or if it would raise comment. He was her friend and they were close and she could say she was coming with Mireth even if the truth of it was that it had been a purely instinctive reaction on her part. Now she knew what he meant to her, to have witnessed what she just had was unbelievably upsetting, and she was trying not to listen to the voice in her head which was now loudly and belligerently wondering if this was what could happen with a mere lump of wood, how would he fare against far more dangerous foes once he was off and away in the wilds?

Shit, shit and SHIT!

And she knew all too well he would think exactly the same thing and beat himself up endlessly about it. Damn it all to HELL and back! She could throttle Tadion! Him and his damn roaring and waving his sword about like an idiot! In fact as she reached Halladan at last it was near enough at the same time as Tadion, and he was somewhat taken aback at the ferocious glare Penny threw in his direction as they caught sight of one another. Mireth had beaten her and several others to it, though, and was already giving him the once over.

"It is nothing, truly," Halladan was saying to her, to everyone now milling round him and no one in particular all at once. "Please stop fussing, Mi-ARGH!" He cried out as Mireth touched his ribs, a serious look on her face. Mireth looked up, spotted Elrohir, nodded just once and Elrohir was instantly off and running to find his father.

As Penny watched all this unfold, one of a small crowd now, Arvain beside her, she made no attempt to cover the concern on her face – she just wanted to know he was not too seriously injured, but even if that proved to be the case she was still concerned by the psychological impact it might have on him.

Mireth was muttering at Halladan, telling him she needed to assess the damage properly. He pushed her hand away.

"I can undo my own damn belt, Mireth!"

But her deft elven fingers had already unknotted it and it slid to his feet even as he spoke. So instead he began pulling open the fastenings on his tunic, undoing just enough of them so he could pull it over his head. He had lifted his arms (with much wincing and sucking in of his breath) to do precisely that when he suddenly saw Penny and hesitated. Penny was not sure she had ever seen him look genuinely embarrassed before. She looked away, hoping she had not been staring.

"Mireth, I am sure it is nothing more than bruising," Faelon suddenly cut in smoothly. "Let us get him to our tent and we can inspect the damage there. If it is more serious, then Elrond can have a look at him."

"Nonsense, Faelon, do you think I have not seen all sorts as a healer?! Did I not have to help your grandfather to bathe himself when he was wounded by an orc's arrow on his way to Imladris one time?!"

"Mireth…" Celebdor raised an amused eyebrow at her.

"Yes, yes, very well, very well." Mireth did not seem happy about leaving Halladan without checking him properly. She gently felt his side once more, Halladan wincing a little as she did so. "I do not _think_ you have broken a rib… though without lifting your tunic…"

"Do not worry, Mireth, we will look after him," Faelon reassured her. "You have my word."

"Tell you what, my love," Celebdor said brightly, chortling, "I shall bring you a full and detailed report of every bruise and scratch, their shape, colour and their every extent. How does that sound?"

"Oh very funny, Celebdor," Halladan muttered bitterly, even as he let Faelon take the arm on his uninjured side and wrap it round his neck, then bring his own arm round Halladan's waist to help take the strain. "Most amusing. Ha ha."

Mireth on the other hand ignored her betrothed and addressed herself to Faelon.

"I will fetch you liniment and bandages." She turned to leave. "Pen-ii? Come and help me."

Penny did as she was asked, glad in some small way to actually be of use. As she turned to leave, though, she spotted Halladan's belt still lying on the floor, knife, pouch and scabbard still attached. She started towards it, thinking to pick it up and hand it to whoever was nearest and going with Halladan, but Arvain beat her to it having already picked up Halladan's fallen sword from nearby. He looked up at her as he crouched down to retrieve the belt.

"Try not to worry, Pen-ii. I am sure he has done little damage other than some bruising as Faelon said."

She nodded as he gently smiled reassuringly at her. She tried to return it but she was not sure how well she succeeded.

She started to follow Mireth and, as she did so, looked back for a moment as Halladan started to gingerly make his way towards the Dunedain edge of the camp, Faelon supporting him, Glorfindel now on the other side of him hovering in case he needed to be bodily carried and various ellyn and Dunedain around them. Halladan happened to glance her way and caught her eye. He gave her a rueful smile then shook his head and attempted a chuckle at himself only to immediately regret it and wince. Penny winced in sympathy.

"It is not serious, I promise you," he called over to her. "A mere knock and nothing more. Rest assured, Pen-ii."

She nodded, trying to believe him, and then hurried off to catch up with Mireth who was already speeding ahead to find Elrond and fetch whatever might be needed.

"It is to be expected she would be concerned," Penny could just hear Faelon saying behind her. "You have become close friends."

It was Tadion who replied, though Penny was out of earshot by the time he spoke.

"Yes indeed. She came running, though, did she not?... OW! What was that for, Arvain?! No, I will not shut up! YOU damn well shut up!"

* * *

Author's Notes:

I forgot to mention last time – a few people asked what Penny was referring to here: "a story about a man utterly failing to avenge a murder that might not have even happened which was considered one of the greatest stories of her people". It was 'Hamlet'.

As ever, many thanks for the reviews, comments and patience from you all. At least I got this chapter done a good bit quicker than the last one, right?


	54. Drawing Lines

**Chapter 54** – _"Drawing Lines"_

As it turned out Halladan had just given himself a rather nasty bruise on his right side. No ribs were broken and the liniment Mireth had provided was powerful stuff apparently, or so Tadion explained outside their tent after Penny had arrived with bandages.

"Numbs the pain and helps you to heal fast. We make something similar, but the elves… well, they just have their own particular way with these things."

Yeah, elvish 'magical magics' probably did help quite considerably when it came to healing, Penny had to agree.

Elrond had already been and gone. Having given Halladan the once over, he had insisted everyone leave the tent bar Arvain and Faelon, Tadion told Penny a little sulkily. Penny was glad of it, though, suspecting Elrond would have then insisted Halladan explain exactly what had happened and why since, in many respects, that was of far more concern than a knock to the ribs.

It was some time till Halladan finally emerged, fully bandaged up and now dressed. He was just fastening his belt as he stepped out into the last of the daylight. He grinned as he saw Penny.

"Good as new," he said. "Told you so."

She raised an eyebrow. "Tadion tells me it is a bruise the size of a hog."

"Does he now? You and your big mouth, cousin!"

Tadion laughed then excused himself, saying he had promised to help Naurdir skin a rabbit or two.

"Said I could have a couple of the skins if I asked nicely too. Mother needs a new pair of winter boots and they would line them nicely."

Arvain and Faelon were still in the tent washing up after their exertions, not having had time since they had been occupied with Halladan till now, and Halladan seemed at something of a loose end. He and Penny fell into step beside each other, wandering nowhere in particular though it seemed to be in the general direction of 'towards the edge of the camp.'

"So," Penny said at last, "what happened?"

Halladan glanced at her and then sighed heavily.

"Ai, not you as well."

"Ah, so I was right. Elrond has already asked you this?"

Halladan nodded. "And I will tell you the same thing: it was not a waking dream and you do not need to be worried."

"Halladan, you were nearly knocked from your horse!"

"I know, Pen-ii. Do you think I do not?!" He sighed heavily once more, not wanting to get annoyed. "I… I do not know what happened. For a moment I could see something of Hirvell in Tadion, just the way he was holding his sword, his expression, that same air of riding as if the hordes of Morgoth were at his back and being furious about it… I do not know. I was so struck by it and then as I rode… I just had strong memories of having done similar charges myself in battle." His glanced flicked sideways at her, aware she found this kind of talk unsettling. "It was not a waking dream, I just lost my concentration. That is all."

Penny said nothing. After a moment or two, having expected her to say something, Halladan looked at her.

"Pen-ii?"

"What do you want me to say, Halladan? I believe you. If that is what you say happened, then that is what happened."

Halladan blinked.

"What is that meant to mean?"

"It means that it looked very different for someone watching, Halladan."

Only then did she look at him, and as she saw his face change she realised instantly she had said the wrong thing.

"I do not mean… I meant me, Halladan. I meant that is not how it seemed to me. I did not mean that everyone will have noticed something…"

"Only they did, did they not?" His face was strained, set, taut. Penny cursed herself.

"They noticed you were about to be hit, that you were riding too close without raising your sword, perhaps. It may be they thought you were trying to be clever, trying to leave your reaction till the last minute and just mis-timed it." She shrugged and smiled desperate to make up for having worried him. He was looking at her a little intently, or so it seemed.

"So what did _you_ see?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"You… changed."

"How?"

"Just… changed. It was as if you were not there for a moment. You were still on the horse but you were not aware of where you were. You were upright in the saddle, just… sitting. I cannot explain it." She paused as she stopped walking and turned to him. "_Did_ you have a waking dream, Halladan?" She caught hold of his arm. "Tell me. Honestly. Did you? Because if you did I insist you tell Elrond. He has to know."

"No." He looked at her straight in the eye now. "I promise you, Pen-ii, I did not. You have my word. It was as I told you. I… was not aware and yet I was not wholly unaware. It was not a waking dream. It was only a moment, a brief memory that distracted me."

He could see she was worried, could guess at what she was thinking.

"You do not need to worry about me."

But she knew him too well and knew that for all he was saying that to placate her, deep within himself he would be worrying about exactly the same thing.

"Never mind me. I do not want you to worry about yourself."

He looked at her, surprise mingling with something that was not quite anger but also guilt at her hitting the nail quite so precisely on the head. He turned his head away brusquely, perhaps aware his expression had given him away.

"I am just thankful you have the likes of Elrond and Gandalf here," she said quietly. "That is all."

She tentatively slipped her hand into his and held it for a moment. He glanced down at their hands as she did so, then looked at her as he squeezed it back and smiled. She withdrew her hand, turning away as she did so – her turn to not want to let her true emotions show on her face – and beginning to walk once more.

"I think have decided what I want to do with my letter. I will need your help if you think you are able."

There was a pause.

"So long as there is no heavy lifting involved."

She looked at him, took in the raised eyebrows and the grin, and could not help but laugh.

As they wandered back to where Naurdir was getting supper ready, Penny explained she would need a small fire and that was all. She was honest and said she was not sure if she wanted to be alone or not, and that she was fairly confident she might be able to set the fire herself if he could get her a flint and just help her set everything up properly since she had seen it done so many times now. Halladan raised an amused eyebrow at this, but did not comment on it, merely agreeing to help her get the right sort of kindling and twigs for a small fire.

"The light is already fading now, Pen-ii. It is perhaps too late to consider this for this evening."

"Oh, I realise that. Besides which I am sure Tadion will want a full compliment in his audience this evening, will he not?"

Halladan laughed. "Oh, most certainly he will!"

Nor did Tadion disappoint. Almost as soon as they started eating, he began by asking if Penny had enjoyed the story of Faelon's bull. It was Faelon's turn to laugh loud at Arvain's expense then, declaring his bull had never recovered and forever more had exhibited over-excited behaviour whenever it caught sight of bunches of wild flowers.

Arvain retaliated by recounting the time that Tadion, on one of his visits to see them with his father, had been sent to feed their pigs, only to be charged by a particularly difficult sow and been found face down in the mud with trotter marks all over him and the pigs making merry in the nearby woods.

"I swear he smelt of pig muck for the rest of the week he was with us," Arvain hooted.

"I remember that," Halladan said, laughingly. "We would make a great show of standing upwind of him at every opportunity."

Tadion glowered. This meant war.

By the end of it, Penny had barely touched her rabbit stew, she was laughing so hard. As the tales flew back and forth, more and more of the Dunedain were dragged in to it, and though at first the focus invariably came back to Arvain and Tadion, soon enough it included Halladan and finally, inevitably, Hirvell. Indeed the moment Penny mentioned how Halladan had explained what terrors his brothers had been, how they had forever needled each other, playing prank and counter-prank on each other for years, it was like the floodgates opened. In some ways it was perhaps a little unfair given Hirvell was not there to shoulder the blame alongside his younger brother, and as Arvain's protests grew louder and louder, so did the laughter at his expense.

They had been the bane of Halladan's life as a teenager and young man, it seemed, even to the point of teasing him mercilessly at every crack and squeak when his voice was breaking ("Yes, thank you, Faelon, I am not sure I wanted to be reminded!") though, according to Faelon, Halladan made sure they felt the full force of his jibes when it was their turn ("Hey, my voice never once…! Oh, shut up, Halladan."). Indeed it seemed that as bad as Arvain and Hirvell were with each other, it was as nothing to when they conspired against their big brother. They made it their life's work to infuriate him as much as possible or at least until they had both at last passed into full manhood, and even then it still did not abate entirely. From frogs in his bed to elvers in his boots – it was endless. Once when the three had joined their father for an extended visit to Imladris and Halladan was due to ride out with Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir the next day for a hunt, the two boys had spent all day sewing together the legs of every pair of leggings Halladan had with him, even staying awake that night till he had fallen asleep so they could then sew together the legs of the pair he had been wearing that day. They were nothing if not enterprising.

("Ai, Elbereth, the sight of Halladan in a pair of Elrohir's spare leggings! All wrinkles coming out of the top of his boots!"

"Arvain, I swear you will make yourself sick if you keep laughing that hard."

"Aw, still bitter all these years later, Halladan?"

"Shut up, Tadion. I was just seventeen and about to go on my first full hunt with ellyn and the pair of them made me look a complete fool!"

"Ah, come now, Halladan, you did not look so bad. And far worse has happened between young ellyn…"

"Yes, it has, has it not, Lindir?"

"Now, now, Mireth let us not stray from the point…")

And Halladan, ever striving to walk in the footsteps of his father and trying his best to be a mature young man, to be in some sort of position of authority over his brothers if only to help his father to share the load, rarely responded in kind.

Oh, but when he did…

"There was the incident with the bag a ferrets and a deep pit with a pile of horse manure at the bottom if I remember correctly, was there not?" Faelon was grinning widely.

"Oh, indeed there was," Halladan responded. "And Father had my hide for it, but it was worth every minute of the months of chores I had to do afterwards, if only for the expressions on their faces when he pulled them out."

The climax came, however, when Tadion at last cut through the hubbub of jibe, counterjibe and loud laughter by declaring that, surely, the time had come for The Story of The Badger. In an instant there was uproar as both Halladan and Arvain started talking at once, each trying to shout down the other and half the Dunedain there collapsed into a heap of hysterics as much from their reaction as anything else. Even the few elves with them were grinning. It seemed this story was well known. Both Halladan and Arvain were trying to tell the story at once, each contradicting the other as they went and neither making much sense to Penny for all the talking over each other and interruptions. At last Faelon managed to make himself heard over the pair of them.

"No, no, I will tell it, _I_ will tell it! After all I was there, was I not?"

And before Halladan and Arvain could interrupt him in protest (though it seemed both were on the point of doing exactly that), he carried on blithely, directing himself in the main to Penny since, of course, she was the only there who had never heard the tale before.

Apparently, when still fairly young, Arvain had gone through a phase of bringing injured animals home with him. It started reasonably enough – an injured bird kept on some straw for a few days, or a baby hedgehog left abandoned by its mother. Hirvell would tease his younger brother by suggested any and every animal be put in the pot rather than nursed to good health, and it was up to Halladan to dry his baby brother's tears and pull Hirvell's ears most of the time. Over time, though, Arvain's little 'hobby' quickly got out of hand, if only because he showed a remarkable inability to be able to tell the difference between an injured and uninjured animal. That and he wanted to keep every animal he dragged home with him as a pet. When at last, aged only eight, he brought home a badger, it was a step too far. He and Hirvell (then eleven) discovered just how vicious a cornered badger can be (especially when it has had to endure a bumpy ride 'home' cross-country in a hessian sack).

Arvain was very quickly cured of his desire to keep every animal he found in the wild that day, what with the bites to his hands and ankles. Hirvell, for once trying to help his brother rather than just point and laugh at him, fared no better, and even with Halladan's help all three were completely outflanked (and outbit). Halbarad and Faelon came home to find the three standing on the kitchen table, armed with a broom, a frying pan and toasting fork between them, and the badger prowling round them.

"Needless to say the pair of them never let us forget it," Halladan muttered ruefully.

Faelon chuckled and then explained to Penny that in all the years since then every time it was mentioned each brother would insist it had been the other two who had been on the verge of wetting themselves in fear and bursting into tears.

"Indeed any mention of The Badger Incident in later years could lead to very heated arguments between the three with all sorts of other grudges and incidents being raked through the mud all over again."

Arvain and Halladan hotly denied the accusation but the roars and hoots of laughter round them told a different story.

It said much for the strength and efficacy of Mireth's liniment that Halladan was able to laugh and shout as hard as he did that night and not feel it till the morning.

Penny was truly sorry to see Tadion leave the next day. His leaving, more than any prior, made the imminent departure of Halladan in a couple of weeks' time all the more keenly felt. She would miss him in his own right too, though. He was a character, they were the same age and she genuinely liked him, and looked forward to seeing more of him once she was settled amongst his people.

It was another early start, dawn barely yet broken, as Tadion and the few riding with him got themselves ready for the off. Tadion embraced his cousins warmly and clasped their forearms almost savagely, murmuring that the pair of them had better damn well take care and he would see them soon enough. Faelon got similar treatment. Penny had her hand kissed most graciously, and she surprised him completely by then giving him a peck on the cheek. For a moment she wondered if he was about to blush, indeed the shock on his face was enough to set Arvain off into a coughing fit. Penny, turning to Arvain and laughingly telling him to stop it, missed the rather awkward glance Tadion threw in Halladan's direction as if worried that he might be angry at such a gesture.

"I will miss him, will miss all of you, Arvain. It will be very strange for me once you have all left me behind."

"I know, I know, Pen-ii. It is just… Ai, his face!" And Arvain was back into hysterical chuckling once more.

Straight after lunch Penny sought out Erestor once more. She had a question for him.

"It is very possibly a stupid question, and I think I know the answer, but I need to ask it anyway. If I do not then… well, I would wonder forever more, that is all."

Erestor raised an eyebrow at her and waited patiently for her to get to the point.

"Parchment. How long can it last?"

Erestor blinked. "Um… well, it can last quite some considerable time. In mortal terms, I mean."

"An Age maybe? I mean, perhaps not usually, but with elvish…," she struggled for an appropriate word, "…'skill', perhaps even two or three Ages?"

"When you say 'skill' do you mean 'magic'?" Erestor seemed almost amused as he offered the word.

"I do not know. Do I?" The word was unfamiliar to her.

Erestor nodded. "I think so. As a mortal, at least. We elves recognise that something of what we or others are capable of is indeed 'magic' – it is why the word exists at all in our languages – but there are also all those things that mortals find difficult to understand or appreciate that an elf might take for granted and it amuses us to have it so termed; and of course the more powerful the elf, the greater their ability to do that which might astonish a mortal."

Penny nodded. She understood what he meant now.

"Then, yes. Elvish 'magic'. How long, even with that, could a parchment last?"

Erestor looked at her intently, tilting his head onto one side. His eyes filled with sadness and he reached out for her hand.

"Not long enough, Pen-ii," he said softly. "Not if it is as far in the future as you suspect, and you have said to us it could even be longer. I am sorry."

Penny nodded, looking down as she felt the emotion well within her for a moment.

"I thought as much. I just had to…"

"I know. I understand. I would have been surprised had you not done so in truth."

There was a long silence.

"So, what do you intend to do? Or would you rather keep it private?"

"What? Oh, no, no. I mean, I am not sure if I would not prefer to be alone but… No, there is no reason to keep it secret. You were right. I need something, some sort of ceremony to say goodbye or to 'draw a line underneath it' as we would say in my tongue. An act that means I say to myself 'from this point on I look forward as best I can', where I try to accept the lost as lost."

Erestor was nodding. "I agree. I commend you, Pen-ii. You have come far. Your talk with Galadriel must have been uplifting indeed."

Penny stared at him.

"Oh, I do not know what she may or may not have said to you," he added hurriedly. "Do not misunderstand me. But it is well-known the two of you talked that night. You were seen by many," he pointed out.

Yeah, a heap of Galadhrim just for a start. Bloody gossiping elves! They would be the death of her!

"I am not sure quite what I will do or say. Perhaps nothing. But I think I will perhaps burn the letter at the end of it. I think. I am not sure. Read it out and keep it, perhaps? Anyway… _something_."

"Well, so long as you have it all clearly thought out in your head, Pen-ii," Erestor replied, chuckling.

Penny could not help but laugh softly at herself.

"Let the moment direct you," he continued, more serious now. "Should you wish any of us to be there, and I truly mean any of us – Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel, whomsoever you might wish – you have only to ask."

"That is… thank you. And thank them also. I am most touched. I do feel this is something I need to do myself, though."

"Of course, Pen-ii. I understand entirely and, in truth, agree. I just wanted to let you know how things stood."

After her talk with Erestor Penny decided she needed some time alone. If she was truly considering burning her letter in some sort of symbolic gesture of 'gaining closure', she wanted to take some time by herself to really indulge herself in her memories of her family, to truly grieve and then, once it was done, not to forget them or ignore the pain of their loss, but see it as a moment from which she would look forward and not back.

Or that was the plan, anyway.

She decided the woods by the spring might be the best place for having a little privacy at least and headed in that direction, though in the end she walked off down the slope of the hill, through the long grass to one side of the edge of the trees, idly letting her hands brush against the few late summer flowers that she could just reach as she walked. Halfway down the hill she veered right and headed for the treeline, stopping at the wood's edge and sitting down, leaning up against a tree trunk as she stared out at the rolling green ahead of her and the line of the mountains beyond.

She let her mind wander, lost herself in all that she had known and all that she had been before she came to this place and for the first time in a long time, perhaps ever, she could see it in some perspective, as if a step removed from it. She could consider events from her childhood and label them 'happy memories' rather than moments to cause her heart-rending pain. She could think of her friends and miss them but found she was more accepting of their loss than she had been even a week ago. Was this Galadriel's work, she wondered, or would this have happened anyway?

After an hour or so, as the sun began to dip low enough in the sky that the mountains ahead of her were tinged with orange, Penny stood and headed back up the hill. She was not looking ahead, only aware of the feel of the grass against her skirts, and it was something of a surprise, therefore, when she realised someone was standing at the top of the hill, a dark silhouette against the glowing sky behind him.

It was Halladan.

She stopped, her astonishment clear on her face.

"I had come to find you, but then when I saw you I thought it best I wait and leave you to your thoughts."

"Oh, I would not have minded if—"

He shook his head. "No, Pen-ii. You needed some time to yourself, to your own thoughts." He paused. "We all need that sometimes."

She nodded, not quite sure what to say. "Were you waiting long?"

"Not overly so. Besides, I got some more of this done." He held up the carving. "It is nearly finished, I think."

"Oh! Can I see?"

"No." He snatched it out of her reach and slipped it into its pouch, laughing. "No, no. Not yet."

She laughed in her turn. "Fair enough."

There was a pause. Not awkward, exactly, but pregnant, perhaps.

"I, er, came to seek you out to ask… well, you had said something about a fire? Were you thinking of having it this evening? Only, with the light beginning to fade we shall have to look for tinder now or else leave it till tomorrow."

"Oh, yes, of course. Thank you."

He smiled, stepping past her and down the hill towards the trees.

"Oh, and if there is anything you needed us to do – Arvain or I, or anyone - anything you need any of us to help you with or if you want us to be with you if… you have any ceremony planned or…" He shrugged and looked sideways at her. "Forgive me, Pen-ii. You have mentioned that they will have found it hard not having a body to bury and the same is true for you, perhaps, but I do not know if you have some form of ritual or…"

"Thank you, Halladan. Erestor said the same thing to me and I am most touched. I am not sure what I want to do. Remember them and then say goodbye to them is all, in truth. I… I think I want to be alone. It is not that I do not appreciate everyone's support, it is simply that, as I said to him, this is something that I need to do by myself."

Halladan nodded.

"I understand, Pen-ii. And moments of privacy can be hard to come by when you travel in large companies such as this. In some senses I envy those already left."

"Oh?" Penny cursed herself for feeling it personally and tried to force her face into something jovial, as if she would tease him about the unconscious insult.

"Oh, not that I do not appreciate the company," he added quickly, "It is simply that… well, a Dunadan's life is very different from this." He gestured up the hill back to the camp. "Oh, we live in small communities, or some do, but I miss… I miss riding in the wilds on my own or with just one or two others." He glanced at her, smiling.

"I understand. I am sorry you are staying on my account. Lindir was right the other evening, I will be safe enough in their company—"

"No, Pen-ii. I will not hear of it. As your guardian… I am following the duty Father laid upon me. Ah, here we are!" He bent down, fishing out his large knife, to start chopping at some dry branches that had fallen under the eaves of the trees. "Get some of the dry twigs on the ground there while I fetch this and some moss."

Within some ten or fifteen minutes they had collected all that Halladan said they would need. Now came the question of where to make the fire.

"Not too close to the camp."

"Any particular direction?"

Penny thought for a moment. "Facing north… No, north-east."

Halladan looked at her, pleasantly surprised. "Facing home?"

"It is my home too, Halladan… or it will be long Ages from now."

Dusk was beginning to draw in as they made their way round the camp and set up the fire. Then it was time to eat, but afterwards Penny delayed, not wanting to take the decision of beginning whatever her private ceremony would turn out to be. She suspected it was no coincidence that they had been joined by Erestor, Glorfindel and Elladan for the meal, nor that Elrohir and Celeborn had stayed to chat as they had walked past at one point.

At long last, Halladan gently nudged her and suggested she should fetch whatever she felt she would need and he would meet her at the designated spot. When she arrived at last, parchment in hand and a shawl round her shoulders (for a breeze had picked up and it felt as if it might rain later), she found Arvain was with him. She also noted they had not lit the fire.

"We waited for you," Halladan explained simply. "You said you wished to light this yourself, so…"

He did not let her use the flint, though, as she had suggested. Arvain stood back and watched as Penny held the ball of moss and grass into which Halladan struck the spark and then, closing her hands around it a little, she blew into it like mad, Halladan quietly directing her to hold it up out of her face each time, to be careful of the wind direction (again so she did not inhale the smoke), or to blow harder or for longer until at last… a flame! A small, orange flame in her hands! Penny was lost in wonder for a moment. Arvain grinned to see her face but stayed silent still, letting his brother get on with it.

"Add a little more grass, wrap it… That is the way of it. Now into the centre… there, see it catch light now? More twigs… use the last of the grass and moss…"

Halladan was a gentle and patient teacher, no doubt as a consequence of helping to bring up younger brothers as well as having an even younger cousin running about underfoot. Penny tried not to focus on this new aspect of his character too much, because it only reminded her of how hopeless her feelings for him were. She stared hard at the fire, feeding it more till it was well and truly ablaze.

Halladan and Arvain exchanged a look.

"We will… um… that is unless you want us to…"

Penny did not reply, had perhaps not even heard Halladan, so the pair discreetly withdrew, staying in sight but moving almost to the edge of the camp. After a while a few others came to join them, Lindir and Glorfindel amongst them, but Halladan stayed at one remove, just watching Penny from a distance.

Meanwhile, Penny stood in silence for quite some time, attempting (and failing) to gather her thoughts. At last she took a deep breath and felt she had better start. She looked up at the stars, as if she might find inspiration there.

"This is so insane," she murmured, in English. "This is… Why am I even doing this? There you are, God knows how many years in the future… What the hell is this going to achieve?"

"If you will forgive me saying so, Pen-ii," a gentle voice murmured on her left, "if you do not start soon, the fire will have burnt low and then not last overly long."

She gasped, turning to look up at Gandalf. She had not even been aware of his arriving, yet there he was standing next to her, staring into the fire as calmly as if he had been there all along.

"I do not know what to say," she said simply, reverting back to Sindarin.

"Say what is in your heart, Pen-ii. Say whatever you would want her to hear from you, whatever you feel needs to be said."

She glanced down at the parchment in her hand.

"You intend to burn it, I take it?"

"A gesture… It seemed appropriate. The only way I could think to..."

"Of course."

"I did ask Erestor if—"

"I know. He told me."

There was a pause.

"I do not suppose… I mean, if anyone might…" She looked up at him. "I just want her to know I am safe. It is that that hurts me more than anything."

Gandalf nodded. "It is only natural you should feel that way." He looked at her and took in the almost pleading expression on her face. He sighed. "What would you have me tell you, Pen-ii? To be able to reach across the mists of such an expanse of time and speak to her directly… well, it would take a power far greater than my own, I suspect. Even were I to wait until your time came to pass, I suspect that all contact with the West would be long removed by then, will it not? Your time will come and go, and most of those in the West will be as unaware of its passing as if it were a butterfly on the breeze in a far-off land."

Penny nodded, staring at the fire willing herself not to lose control.

"I know," she said quietly, her voice a little husky. "I just-""

"-had to ask. Yes, I know. I am limited by my form, Pen-ii. Oh, do not look so surprised to me talk in such terms, I can be frank enough with you who whispered my true nature to me the first time you met me. Even were I not, I do not know that I could… even if I were to try. You are from so very far away, Pen-ii. I told you that long ago, did I not?"

Penny nodded.

"It is best to remove all false hopes, to accept your life and the reality of what you have before you, good or ill. Your road has been set for you by One Who Knows All. Accept it. Your mother… will heal with time, as will you. She will have no choice after all, much as you have no choice either." He paused and glanced at her once more. "I do not say these things to be harsh, Pen-ii. This is what you need to hear. You decided to have this small ceremony to help you move on with your life, did you not?" He smiled encouragingly at her.

"Yes. Yes, I did." She paused, taking stock of all that he had said. "Thank you, Gandalf."

So saying she took a step forward and began to speak, in English, as if she were speaking directly to her mother. She said out loud all the things she had written down the day before: how she was sorry she had disappeared without warning, how she missed everyone, how she wanted them to know she was safe and well, indeed perhaps in a better state than she had ever been in her entire life. Then, much like a eulogy, she spoke a little of her mother, her brother and her family and what they had meant to her, how proud she was of her mother, how much she had sacrificed for her and her brother, remembered birthdays and family feastdays, an amusing anecdote here or a good lesson taught there. She fell silent for a while and then, at last, she unrolled the parchment and took in the words one last time before holding it out over the fire that was, as Gandalf had predicted, already beginning to burn low. The flames licked the bottom edge, making the parchment glow and curl as it quickly began to burn. She held it for as long as she could as the dark, glowing line ate its way up the scrawling writing and then, at the last, she dropped it, watching as it curled up in the heat, like a dying spider, blackened and then fell into ash, gone at last.

All the while Gandalf had watched her with an intensity that would have startled her had she turned to see him. As she had burnt the letter, his eyes had fallen shut and it could have been he was saying something under his breath, but it would have been impossible to tell if his mouth was moving under his copious beard and moustache. If he was indeed saying anything, they were no doubt words of healing, words to ease Penny's heart with whatever last vestiges of power Naria might still hold, or so anyone watching might assume. Certainly Penny, had she realised, would have made such an assumption. The moonlight seemed to fall round him in pools much as it always did, much as it did with any elf, only in Gandalf's case, especially now he was 'The White', it seemed all the more so especially if it was a clear starlit night and the moon was bright. It was one of those nights now it seemed, as the light glinted off his snow-white hair and garments, mud-spattered though the bottom of his robes might be. It could be the fire also burnt a little brighter for a minute or two. Whatever the case, when Penny turned at long last as the flames died and sputtered to mere glowing embers, traces of drying tears on her cheeks, his eyes were open once more and he was smiling softly, if sadly, in sympathy.

"So it is done," he said simply.

And so it was.

Gandalf kicked over the last traces of the fire, Penny crouching to help him cover the last few glowing embers. Then, brushing their hands, they turned together to head back to the camp, and Penny was surprised to see ahead of her a small group round a fire of their own on the very edge of the camp nearest to them.

"They are waiting for you," Gandalf said simply. "They wanted to show you their support in some small way, while recognising this was a private affair and not wishing to intrude directly, of course."

She could see Halladan at one remove, looking in her direction, and even as she watched it seemed clear that others were aware she had finished at last, as Arvain and Glorfindel turned their heads towards her. Lindir and Celebdor were in quiet conversation together, Glorfindel was standing to one side with Elladan and Arvain, Faelon was handing Elrohir a wine sac even as Mireth and Rhimlath stood to greet Celeborn as he arrived to join the group from between two tents nearby. It was all those who knew her story and those who had become friends. Her tears threatened to flow once more.

No one said anything directly as she and Gandalf joined them all. Halladan had walked forward a little to meet them both and then fell into step on the other side of Penny, coming close enough for his hand to graze hers, grasp it gently and then let go. She had looked sideways at him to find him looking at her with gentle concern, waiting to see how she fared, so she smiled and nodded, letting him know that she really did feel fine. He seemed to understand and smiled in return, seeming to breathe a little easier. The three sat down quietly, with little acknowledgement of their arrival from the others, and Penny listened quietly as the conversation round her continued, slowly drawing her in as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all; rather it was enough to know they had come, that they cared, that they were there for her. It was an unspoken but meaningful gesture, and Penny was much moved by the sentiment behind it. Even Elrond and Galadriel came to join them briefly before they, Celeborn and Gandalf then disappeared off into the dark to have their regular nightly discussions.

Yes, it was enough, and Penny was grateful for it beyond measure.

The next day Penny awoke with, if not exactly a sense of purpose, certainly a sense of acceptance that, while it had been building since her talk with Galadriel, now seemed more resolute and far clearer since her symbolic moment the night before. Mentally she dedicated the days ahead to enjoying what time she had left with Halladan and, after that, then taking life as it came, learning whatever the elves could teach her before she then had to face the somewhat daunting prospect of trying to fit in to Dunedain culture. She sensed she would have a good teacher once she got there, though: the infamous Morfinniel. It had been decided upon during various late night discussions once they had turned north that she would go to stay with Faelon's family. Not only did they live very nearby to the small house Arvain and Halladan had grown up in, but more importantly, Penny could hardly go to live alone, herself an unmarried young woman, with two unmarried young men even if they were her guardians. However upright and moral the unimpeachable characters of Arvain and Halladan might be, there were limits. Not only that, but there would be long periods when both would be away doing their Dunedain duty, and during such times she would have been directed to stay with Morfinniel anyway. Besides, as Faelon pointed out and Halladan and Arvain agreed, Morfinniel and her daughters would relish the idea of teaching 'all their female ways' to Pen-ii.

"You are as good as family to these two, Pen-ii, and any family of Halbarad's is family of mine," he had declared with a broad smile on his face. "And it will be another big sister for young Canion, too," Faelon had added.

"Are you sure he will thank you for it?" Halladan had laughed. "Yet another sister?"

"Perhaps not." Faelon had laughed in his turn. "He will still be furious at not having been old enough to ride south with us, I warrant." (Faelon's youngest child and only son was still a boy of only twelve or so.)

"Oh, won't he just!" Arvain had replied, grinning. "You will never hear the end of it from him when you return, of that I am certain!"

Canion, it seemed, was as spirited as any Dunadan male could be and, from the little Penny had gleaned, another handful much as Tadion or Arvain had been in their youth. Faelon himself was due to leave with another small group of Dunedain the following day, two days after Tadion and two days before the company would leave their encampment and bid farewell to the Galadhrim at long last. When it came at last, Penny found his departure even more upsetting that Tadion's had been. This was a man whose strong connection to Halbarad had endeared him to her from the first, who had shown her nothing but gentle kindness and who had happily suggested she come to stay with him and be a part of his family on Halbarad's behalf.

It was no surprise, then, that he did not get a mere peck on the cheek but rather a very long hug and insistent demand that he look after himself. He laughed.

"Oh, never you fear, Pen-ii. I have looked after myself all these years, and I do not intend to let my guard slip now. I am an old man, after all." He winked. "Besides if I ever did, Morfinniel would have my hide." He laughed and then embraced Halladan and Arvain, clapping them firmly on the back. "Fare you both well and mind how you ride. We shall meet soon enough in our homeland once more, and there we shall drink long and deep to the memories of those we have lost whom we loved and love still. I shall give your regards to Morfinniel when I see her and the family."

"And Arvain's particular regards to Hisaeleth, do not forget."

Faelon instantly returned Halladan's grin and chuckled heartily.

"Oh, but of course! How could I forget?"

Arvain seemed embarrassed and, to Penny's surprise, really quite angry in equal measure at this exchange regarding Faelon's eldest daughter, who while younger than himself was a little older than Penny. Faelon caught the furious glare Arvain threw in Halladan's direction.

"Oh, now, now," Faelon was saying as he climbed into the saddle. "I know you hold her as dear in your heart as you do her mother and siblings, Arvain. Deep down."

Halladan grinned, enjoying watching his brother squirm. Penny was intrigued.

"Indeed, I hold you and all your family dear in my heart," Arvain replied diplomatically albeit stiffly, his jaw tight with annoyance.

Faelon laughed. "Of course you do! Of course! Well said, Arvain. Still, I shall send her your particular regards nonetheless, shall I not? This feud between you two has to end some time." And, failing to entirely smother a slightly mischievous smile, he turned his horse without waiting for the response forming even now on Arvain's lips and raised his hand. "Farewell!"

Penny, Arvain and Halladan stayed on the side of the hill to watch the men ride into the distance. They could be seen for quite some time till at last they disappeared round the edge of a copse. As they turned back to the camp, Penny could not help but ask.

"What is this about Hisaeleth?"

She could have sworn Arvain ground his teeth.

"Ah, well, my brother has been sweet on Hisaeleth ever since he was a lad…," Halladan began with a smirk.

"I HAVE NOT! Damn you, Halladan, you know perfectly well I cannot abide the woman!"

"Now then, Arvain, language – there is a lady present." Halladan grinned at Penny and gestured in Arvain's direction. "See? And she is just as bad. When they were small he would pick on her, pull her hair, tease her and make her cry. She in turn would call him names, ignore him completely for days at a time or else, when she became a little older, sneer at him. She became very good at it too. Nothing can enrage Arvain more than one word from Hisaeleth."

Penny could see the positive glee in Halladan as he said all this, even as Arvain positively fumed.

"Enough, Halladan! Pen-ii does not need to—!"

"Oh, but she does, Arvain. After all she is going to live under the same roof as Hisaeleth. She needs to know how things stand between you."

"They do not stand anywhere! I cannot bear to be in her presence for more than minutes at a time and she would say the same of me I am sure." He turned to Penny. "You may ask her when you meet her, Pen-ii. I know I infuriate her as much as she infuriates me. I always have apparently."

So saying he stalked off, clearly very annoyed indeed. Penny noted the slightly hurt and petulant tone in his last phrase, though, and decided that was possibly some truth to Halladan's teasing. Especially given how gentle hearted Arvain was, let alone how he had shown in both Gondor and Rohan how much he enjoyed female company, even to the point of being patient and an absolute gentleman even with the most trying of them – Sidhwen having been a case in point. All this behaviour seemed so unlike him, particularly given it concerned the daughter of his father's best friend and a man who was much like an uncle to him.

"It is a raw thing for him still," Halladan murmured, still very obviously enjoying his brother's discomfort as they slowly followed Arvain's stalking figure back to the camp. "He has always liked her, and that her disdain for him continues even now they are adult and well beyond childish jibes cuts him deep, though he would never admit it. She found his picking on her when they were small hurtful and returned it in kind, and so it has stayed between them, though had Arvain ever stopped to think and once apologised, she might have warmed to him since it is clear deep down she actually holds him in far higher esteem than she would dare say out loud. Faelon jokes that she will not stop talking about him, and I have it on good authority from Morfinniel that is the case. She constantly compares him to others – this or that is a better sword, a better horseman, has a finer jaw - and yet all her thoughts are on him. Of course, once he got older he began to deliberately court other girls, I think in a desperate attempt to make her jealous. Hirvell and I would joke about it, Hirvell especially of course, but even Hirvell once sat Arvain down and told him enough was enough and that if he truly felt as it seemed about her, he should tell her so and treat her with some better grace, that he might well be surprised by the response he got from her."

"And that did not work, I take it?"

"Hirvell was told in no uncertain terms that he could go and boil his head. As I said, Arvain will deny he has feelings for her till Arda is unmade. He would rather face a whole horde of orcs than admit as much, and he has said exactly that more than once. As for dancing with every girl except Hisaeleth at every Mettarë or Loëndë festival then all that would achieve is she would pretend she did not care even if she would glare daggers at him for it all evening. She would take it as an insult, rather than get jealous, even though she would have refused him had he ever asked. He rages if she dances with another, and she cannot keep her eyes off him if he does the same. Both take every opportunity to pity the other's dance partner and loudly declare they would never want to be in their boots. As I say: they are as bad as each other. One day we will knock some sense into the pair of them, though quite how we shall manage it I am not sure." He smiled. "This is why the ladies of Gondor stood no chance with him. He could dance and smile and not be at all serious since, even if he will not admit it, there is only one lady who could win his heart, and yet if things stay as they are, he will lose his chance."

"You mean there is another?"

"Oh, Hisaeleth is a very attractive young woman and very eligible both in her own right, but also in terms of her family. Strong, capable, beautiful, much like her mother – a force to be reckoned with, a fine dancer, excellent seamstress and a fair cook…"

Something about the way Halladan spoke made Penny's heart sink. It was not that Hisaeleth was a rival, far from it given Halladan clearly spoke as one who spoke about a sister or a friend; no, it was that it made Penny feel that no one would ever speak about her in such glowing terms, and perhaps more particularly, she knew that certainly Halladan never would. She was totally unskilled for this society, and however much she might learn she had so much catching up to do compared with any other woman her age. She was a lost cause in terms of marital eligibility.

"…There was already at least one seeking her hand last year from what I heard, though she refused him in the end, but now that the War is over… well, Faelon will be beating them off left and right I do not doubt. I did not tell Arvain when I found out about Hisaeleth being courted. It was Father who let it slip one night. We were all together at home for once – a rare enough occurrence in recent years – and sat around the table sharing our evening meal."

"What happened?"

"He went white with fury and then stormed out of the house. We did not see him till the next evening."

Penny waited but there was nothing more forthcoming.

"That was all?"

"We did not mention it again if that is what you mean."

"None of you spoke to him about it? About why he was so angry?"

"I think Father tried to and got little out of him. Hirvell and I knew better than to try."

Penny shook her head.

"What?"

"You are as bad as each other, you know that?"

"Pen-ii we are menfolk, a family of menfolk." Halladan looked slightly uncomfortable. "It is not our way. We… get on with whatever life might present us. We are not like women who wear their hearts on their sleeves. He is a fool and he has been told as much by all three of us at one time or another, but he will not admit his feelings to himself let alone to any of us." He shrugged.

Penny raised an eyebrow but it seemed the subject was ended.

They went fishing that day. There was a small crowd of them that went to a nearby tributary of the Swanfleet. Mostly it involved a rather jovial picnic of sorts on the stream's banks, but several did hold lines into the water. Others took off their boots and waded in a little further downstream, concentrating on the water and making sudden grabs into it when a fish wriggled past. This latter group was entirely made of ellyn, needless to say. The few Dunedain with them muttered things about 'showing off' and how a spear worked just as well. Rhimlath was thus inspired to tell tales of how, as a young ellon, it had been considered a test of your archery skills to catch a fish with an arrow from a high tree. Lindir, overhearing, asked 'if that was the tale of how Rhimlath fell in to the Celebrant and very nearly drowned'. Rhimlath, near puce with indignation, spluttered that that was a pernicious lie, only to be contradicted by two other Galadhrim in the party. Loud laughter erupted round him.

"You would not think an ellon could fall out of a tree," Penny mused idly, swirling her cup of wine round and round. "What with their innate sense of balance and skill…"

"Depends on how much wine they have drunk before they climb up the tree, Pen-ii," Celebdor replied in a mock whisper.

"I WAS NOT DRUNK!" Rhimlath retorted hotly, only to be met by even louder laughter.

It was a lovely way to pass the day, and when at last the air began to get a little chill and the sun began to get low in the sky, they headed back towards the hill and the camp on top of it, content and singing. They had made a good haul of fish, including several very large ones which made it all worthwhile.

For her part Penny had been in Halladan's company almost non-stop since she had burnt the letter. Their friendship seemed to be blossoming even as she began to come to terms with some of her grief, or so it seemed to her. He always had a ready smile for her, always insisted she sit next to him when they ate. Once or twice during the afternoon she had noticed him watching her, and when she caught him at it he did not look away, only smiled slowly. She would smile back, pleased, but trying not to listen to the voice in her head that would ask what he was looking at and imply that maybe, just maybe, he liked what he saw. She knew it was only because she was aware of her feelings for him that she noticed little things like when their hands touched accidentally, such as when his fingers grazed against hers as he took her cup from her to refill it for her, or when he leant back on one hand (as they sat listening to Rhimlath attempting - and failing - to convince everyone he had had only one small cup of wine prior to going up the tree, and it was not his fault if he stood on a rotten branch; they should instead be amazed he did not break his neck rather than laughing at his misfortune) only for him to lean a little too far and their arms pressed against each other. She would have to fight the instinct to just let her head drop onto his shoulder, to nuzzle into him at such moments.

Damn and blast it, woman, would you just stop it?!

Still, it was nice to fantasize… or it was until reality hit home, at which point she would come down to earth with a bump, shake herself slightly and shift away so their arms no longer touched. It would not do to get so involved in her own pleasure of such moments as to cross some unspoken line and then live to regret it.

Naurdir was soon busily preparing the evening's meal, and Penny was in attendance on him as she often was to help out – both so as to give herself something to do as well as try and learn from him. Halladan was sitting nearby, his carving in hand, rubbing it with a well oiled rag, having already used a small metal file he had borrowed from someone in the camp to smooth the wood down as best he could. Naurdir realised he was running low on water, and Penny offered to refill as many sacs as he needed. It was easy enough – a short walk to the spring nearby and back. Overhearing, Halladan said he would come with her, glad to have an excuse to stretch his legs a little after sitting in one position for so long.

Four sacs apiece, tied in pairs and carried slung over their shoulders, they strolled through the grass, idly chattering about nothing terribly much, Halladan making her laugh loudly with some joke at Lindir's expense that she made a mental note of to use herself at some point. After a little while they started down the hill into the trees and came to the spring's source. The water surfaced just above a smooth slice of vertical rock, the base of which had been carved into a small bowl as the spring trickled down over millennia. It was easy enough to reach, though one had to step down a bank of about a foot or two on either side of the stream that flowed from the source, and the rocks could be a little slippery underfoot. Halladan got down first, turning to give Penny his hand and help her down, and then they filled the sacs.

Once done, Halladan threw his four up onto the grass and, using both hands to lift himself, quickly got his knee onto the bank and so up into the small clearing round the spring source. Penny handed him up one of her pair of sacs, since they were a little heavy now full to carry over the shoulders while scrambling up a bank. She insisted she could bring the other pair with her but the tied straps kept slipping off her shoulder, so she had to use one hand to keep them there, and even with Halladan holding her free hand to help her up she slipped back twice, inducing loud laughter on Halladan's part and a near hysterical attack of the giggles on Penny's. After the second time, when she had very nearly landed in the water, Halladan near enough snatched the sacs off her shoulder, laughingly ordering she not be so daft and hold both his hands.

It almost worked.

At the last moment, just as she was about to step onto the bank, her other foot slipped on a large stone that came loose suddenly and, as she abruptly slid back and down, pulling Halladan off balance momentarily and nearly over the bank with her, he grabbed her by the waist with one hand and up into his arms safely on the bank in one quick moment. Both were laughing, so much so that for once, Penny was not even aware of the close physical contact they had with each other.

Maybe it was the laughter, lost in the moment of it, but Halladan did not instantly let her go, and Penny suddenly became all too conscious of how firmly his grasp was around her waist, how he was holding her so close that she was pressed up against his chest. She was aware of her own heartbeat and how very much she liked being like this, but before she could berate herself she was faintly aware that it was not just her own laughter that was fading. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her own and could not help but look up straight into grey eyes looking deeply back into hers, pupils wide in the glade's leafy gloom. She was mesmerised, so lost in his gaze that she did not think to hide her expression, perhaps revealing for the first time all too clearly what she truly felt for him.

It felt like whole seconds ticked past and yet it was no time at all, and, even as Penny barely took all this in, it seemed as if his head was already bending towards hers, yet all she was truly aware of were those grey eyes and a line of red on the edge of her vision: his mouth, lips parted. She lifted her chin to meet him, her eyes falling closed even as her heart filled with a flush of surprise and joy, her stomach flipping like mad and a rush of heat and - oh God, yes, YES! – hope unseen was making her heartbeat so loud it was ringing in her ears as she felt his breath ghost against her lips…

And then nothing.

Halladan let go of her so abruptly Penny stumbled a little and had to step sideways to keep her balance. Her eyes flickered open, shock hitting her as she struggled to take in what was happening, even as Halladan bent and grabbed the sacs, none too gently, growling something about 'needing to get back to camp.' His tone was brusque and harsh.

What the…?!

Penny blinked. She could hardly process what had just happened, her head was reeling. Hadn't they just been about to…? She could feel something like panic rise within her as Halladan stalked off into the trees, not bothering to wait or look back, and his every movement spoke of anger. What had just happened? He had grabbed her to stop her falling, and then she had looked into his eyes and thought he was going to kiss her and so…

She went cold.

Oh, shit, please, _please_, do not tell her she had misread this. It had all happened so quickly, and now she looked back she could not be wholly sure his head really had been coming towards hers – had she just imagined it? But she had felt his breath, had sensed his face near hers… or had she? Oh, crap. Perhaps she had enjoyed being in his arms so much, let her guard down and…

Halladan was fast disappearing, not slowing down and marching away furiously.

Oh, shit. Please, no. Please…!

If she really HAD misread his intentions, if he had looked down in complete innocence to find her eyes closed, lips upturned, waiting and wanting to be taken advantage of… what the hell must he now think of her?

Feeling sick with anxiety and utter confusion, Penny hurried after him, her mind whirring.

* * *

Author's Notes:

First of all (before the lynching starts) the next chapter is already done and just needs a few editing tweaks, etc and will be posted soon, I promise. I decided I would not post this chapter till the next one was written.

As best I can discover before the invention of sandpaper, wood would be 'sanded' or smoothed with progressively finer and finer grades of metal files.

As for fire-lighting techniques: all credit and thanks to Ray Mears whose books and programmes I have used many a time for 'outdoorsman' techniques. If you haven't seen any of his programmes, keep an eye for them – they are fascinating things!

Regarding feast-days: the calendars of Middle-earth usually had three feast days or 'days of significance' – year beginning (which would vary according to the calendar since different calendars started at different times of the year), mid-year which was the biggie, and year end. To crib wholesale from the ever useful website Encylopedia of Arda, in the King's Reckoning and the Elvish calendars they were as follows:

'_Yestarë' – First-day', the name used in the __Elves'__ calendars, and those derived from them, for the first day of the year. The actual date of yestarë varied from calendar to calendar; according to the __Reckoning of Rivendell__, it fell on modern 28 March, while in the calendars of the __Númenóreans__ and their descendants, its modern equivalent would be 22 December._

'_Loëndë' – Also known, especially by the __Hobbits__, as __Midyear's Day__, Loëndë was the day that fell in the middle of the year and was an important feature in many of the calendars of __Middle-earth__. On a modern calendar, __Midyear's Day__ would be 22 June._

'_Mettarë' – The last day of the year; to the __Elves__, whose calendar started in spring, this was modern 6 April, but to the __Dúnedain__ in __Middle-earth__, Mettarë fell in winter, on modern 21 December._

While I'm talking about this – a couple of people have asked about Penny's birthday. That will be dealt with when she returns to Imladris when Bilbo's birthday will be celebrated.

As ever, my sincere thanks to everyone who comments, reviews, gets in touch, plugs the fic, or begins reading (and yet is not daunted by the sheer length of this monstrous thing, lol – all credit to you!). It is all and always very much appreciated.


	55. Pear Shaped

**Chapter 55** – _"Pear Shaped"_

He did not turn round the first time Penny called his name. She was near enough jogging up the hill through the trees after him, her skirts hitched a little to avoid stumbling in her hurry. By the time she called the second time he was nearing the edge of the trees, and then he did stop, though it was a moment before he turned, and she could see the heavy rise and fall of his shoulders before he did so, as if he had taken a long and deep breath, perhaps to calm himself. He only turned his head to look back at her and his face was unreadable. No, that was not it – as she drew nearer she could see it was cold, blank with tension and if not fury then certainly some strong emotion that he was struggling to maintain control over. She had nearly reached him and opened her mouth to say something (though what exactly she was not wholly sure), but instead he cut straight across her.

"Don't!" he spat through clenched teeth, raising his forefinger partially in warning and partially as a signal for silence. There was a flash of fury across his face.

She came to an abrupt halt and stared at him, appalled, both thoroughly worried now but also with a rising bubble of anger within her.

"But, Halla—!"

Halladan suddenly exploded.

"I SAID—!"

He stopped in mid-roar, biting back whatever it was he would have said even as he turned to look up the hill.

"Ah, Halladan! Pen-ii! Good evening to you both!"

They murmured polite greetings back to Elrohir, Glorfindel and the small group of elves who walked towards them, all with watersacs of their own that they were on their way to fill.

"And how are you both this evening? It was a fair afternoon's fishing, was it not?"

"It was indeed, Glorfindel," Penny replied, trying her best to seem breezy and polite, while all the time her insides were squirming hot and knotted.

Halladan, however, muttered gruffly about getting back to camp and stalked off. Penny smiled apologetically on his behalf and explained they were collecting Naurdir's water and they had best…

"Yes, yes, of course, of course. Till later, Pen-ii."

Glorfindel smiled and waved his hand breezily and turned to catch the others up further down the hill, while Penny once more hurried to catch Halladan up. Little was she aware of it, but Glorfindel did glance back at them both, a curious expression on his face.

When Penny caught up with Halladan once more, they were nearing the camp with many people about here and there, so further conversation was all but impossible. She could not quite bring herself to walk alongside him. Instead she followed a step or two behind, but even that was close enough that she could feel the tension coming off him in waves. She had the distinct impression, borne out by what had already taken place, that if she so much as said one syllable to him he would explode. At the same time she felt like she was going to burst, desperate to clarify what had happened, but with an over-riding and ever increasing sense that his behaviour only confirmed her worst fears. All hope of managing to retain his friendship in spite of her feelings for him seemed shattered. She struggled to maintain her dignity, refusing to show any emotion since she was well enough aware as they walked past tent after tent of how many people were abroad within the camp, making their way to the main fires or else standing in idle groups chattering and laughing.

Halladan did not exactly fling the sacs to the ground once they reached Naurdir, but he certainly dumped them somewhat unceremoniously, enough so that Naurdir lifted his head from the large cauldrons to watch as he then immediately disappeared in the direction of his tent. Penny realised there was little point in her following him and stayed to help Naurdir as best she could, hoping it would distract her a little. What was done was done, and though she felt as sick as a dog about it, little could be achieved by chasing after Halladan, provoking him to fury and making things worse. Perhaps once he had calmed down… Oh, who was she kidding? She had blown it and blown it big time. Even in the unlikely event that he would not now think less of her, then he would certainly be wary of spending any time alone with her if only out of sheer embarrassment or (at best) pity. Penny was amazed she did not collapse into tears, but in many respects she was still in shock; that and the sheer depth of cold sadness she felt over what had happened left her too upset to do much other than wander about in a daze, doing as Naurdir instructed.

Halladan did not appear for the evening meal, or not at first. Penny noticed Arvain slip away at one point and come back some time later with his brows furrowed as if somewhat confused or perturbed by something. A little while later Halladan did arrive, but only to help himself to some dry stores and then disappear off again into the dark. Arvain tried to catch Penny's eye, glancing at the retreating figure of his brother and then raising his eyebrows at her with a slightly resigned, albeit worried, expression. No doubt he was worried that Halladan might be slipping back into old habits. Penny tried a non-committal, flat smile and a half-hearted shrug. What else could she do?

It was only much later, when Penny was actually considering heading off for her bedroll, that he reappeared, though she noted he deliberately sat on the other side of the fire from her, in amongst a group of others. He did not look her way or even acknowledge her presence, and the action finally made a swell of raw emotion rise within her. If she stayed she was likely to weep in public, and that really would not do. She muttered an apology and got to her feet, saying she was tired and it was time for bed.

As she did so and turned to leave, Arvain, watching her go, looked at his brother and seemed surprised when he noticed how Halladan utterly failed to jump to his feet to walk Penny to her tent as might have been expected. Lowering his tankard, Arvain glanced back to see Penny already heading off into the gloom, checked once more to see if his brother was indeed still ignoring the situation and scrambled to his feet, handing his tankard to Rhimlath to hold.

"Hold hard, Pen-ii!"

Penny stopped, turned and waited, glad in some respects that she was far enough from the firelight that she could not be seen well even as she watched Halladan, hearing his brother's shout, raise his head to his brother and then flick his gaze quickly in the direction his brother had shouted. Just as quickly his eyes lowered, though they did look up very briefly once more a second later almost in something like awkwardness and then away again. Arvain was bending over him now, talking quietly. Halladan was saying something in reply that Arvain seemed surprised by. Penny turned away, not wanting to see the rest.

"If you are so concerned, Arvain, _you_ can walk her to her tent."

"Oh, come, Halladan," Arvain was laughing, "I am merely saying…"

"She is free to do as she pleases, as am I. We are not joined at the hip."

"Fine! I will walk her back, then."

"Do so! And good luck to you, brother!"

Something in Halladan's tone made Arvain raise an eyebrow at him. Halladan drained his tankard and got to his feet.

"I could do with a walk," he muttered.

"Halladan?"

Arvain sounded worried now.

"Just leave it, damn you," Halladan growled quietly as he pushed past him. He looked at Arvain for a moment, and something of an understanding seemed to pass between them, Halladan's face looking troubled and irritated, Arvain's brows furrowing in confusion. He was about to say something more, but Halladan stomped off into the dark before he had a chance.

Arvain jogged over to Penny.

"I get a turn to play chivalrous guardian for once," he said, giving her his best grin.

Penny did her best to smile back, but failed miserably, unable to stop herself from glancing over the small crowd round the fire to the patch of black where Halladan had last been seen. Arvain followed her look and there seemed to be a slightly awkward pause where he felt he should say something but had no idea what. Penny took the initiative.

"Shall we?"

The smile was better this try, and Arvain seemed relieved.

They said little as they walked through the camp. Only when they had said their goodnights and Arvain had already made to leave did he hesitate for a moment and turn to her.

"Pen-ii, is everything…? I mean to say, is Halladan…?"

Penny did not know what to say. Her face obviously told Arvain as much.

"Not to worry," he said, smiling reassuringly. "Just one of those evenings, I suspect. Some athelas might help tonight." He smiled a little more firmly. "Till morning, Pen-ii!"

Except it was not simply 'one of those evenings,' and that soon became clear. Penny missed Halladan completely at breakfast. She also did not see him all morning, and it was only at lunchtime that she learned that he and Arvain had gone hunting with some of the elves. Even when the hunt returned soon after lunch, the two brothers did not, having apparently gone off to do some riding alone.

Penny spent much of the day in the company of Mireth, therefore. Today was the last day the elves would all be together, and Lindir, Erestor and Rhimlath were inseparable for most of it. Many were the songs sung and tales told, all day. It was a twenty-four hour farewell, and had in fact started before dawn. Penny had woken to the sound of elvish song.

Thus Penny had much to keep her occupied during the day, but even so her thoughts were constantly with Halladan. At some point he would have to be over his shock and anger. At some point they would have to talk. He was her guardian, if nothing else… or would he now just delegate all that to Arvain? Just stay in the wilds, barely seeing her, and let Arvain deal with her directly for the most part? The longer it went without them talking, the more her imagination ran riot. The more she went back over the scene near the spring source, the more muddled it seemed and the more uncertain she felt. Halladan's reaction had undermined any confidence she had felt in her reading of events, and as time went on she became more and more convinced that she had made a monumental fool of herself and had very likely cost herself a good, close friend.

Mireth could see she was upset, but she kept her thoughts to herself for the time being, thinking only to distract her as best she could since, unusually perhaps, Halladan was not around to do the job and assuming, perhaps naturally enough, it was related to whatever grief and burdens Penny had borne since Rohan.

Supper that night was a large, communal affair. It had to be by virtue of it being the last time they would be together. Galadriel sang, Celeborn and Elrond recited a ballad together, Lindir and Rhimlath performed a duet and even Gandalf was persuaded to tell a story of long ago – a moment that had the hobbits spellbound and grinning in equal measure.

Yet all through it Penny could only be aware of the fact that this was now the second night since she could not remember when, the second night running indeed, that she and Halladan had sat apart. He was not too far away, admittedly, but instead of sitting side by side as was their wont, they had Lindir, Arvain, Mireth and Celebdor in between them. He barely looked at her, though she was aware he did so from time to time. The few times she glanced in his direction to find that was the case, however, he turned away instantly and very deliberately. Those times she did not catch him, though, he watched her for moments at a time, his face serious and, if anyone had looked carefully, a deep sadness in his gaze.

It was late and there was a lull in proceedings as one song finished, and a Galadhrim got to his feet only to have a discussion with his friends for a minute or two as to which was the best tale to tell. Naurdir and others were in the process of fetching more winesacs, and there was quiet chatter amongst the small groups round the fire. Mireth had taken the opportunity to fix Penny's hair since it still had the tendency to come loose from the hairtie Halladan had made for her. Rhimlath, who was seated nearby, reached over and took the piece of leather from Mireth's knee as she was neatly pulling Penny's hair together. He inspected it with an almost disinterested air before pulling the corners of his mouth down.

"I did expect slightly more from a Rohirric craftsman, I have to say. Their leather work, even if it is somewhat basic and crude at the best of times, is usually of a considerably higher standard than this."

Halladan, who had overheard, looked as irritated as Penny by this comment.

"She did not get it from a Rohirric craftsman, Rhimlath" Mireth replied diplomatically. "It is functional and serves its purpose well enough, so what does it matter?"

"Perhaps it does not matter to some, but it is hardly ornate and really a maiden should have something quite beautiful in her hair…"

"I am perfectly capable of deciding what to put into my hair, Rhimlath," Penny suddenly snapped, snatching it from him. "I do not need it to be ornate. In fact if it were, I would live in fear of it falling out and losing it. This is simple, functional and just what I need. So if you could keep your comments to yourself I would be most obliged."

Rhimlath raised an eyebrow at her.

"My apologies if I have offended you, Pen-ii."

Penny tried to stop her glance flicking in Halladan's direction and failed. He was staring hard into his cup, his face set. Rhimlath, meanwhile, having given his polite apologies, found that his own cup needed refilling. He inclined his head in Penny's direction, a little thin-lipped, and went off to collar Naurdir.

Lindir leaned across Celebdor. "He was actually trying to pay you a compliment, Pen-ii," he said gently.

"He was also insulting a present Halladan made for her," Mireth pointed out. "That was somewhat tactless of him, whether he realised it or no."

Arvain's head whipped round as he looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Halladan suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"There was leather left over from the boot repairs, and I knew Pen-ii needed one. That was all."

He shrugged his shoulders, trying to seem inconsequential but actually coming across as defensive. Now it was Lindir's turn to look at Halladan in some surprise.

"You? Leather-working? I thought it was Hirvell that was the leather-worker in your family."

"It does not mean I am wholly incapable, Lindir!" Halladan now sounded nearly as snappy as Penny had just done. "In truth, it was not meant to be anything more than a functional gift to save Pen-ii wasting her money on buying one! If I had wanted to make it hugely ornate, I am sure I could have managed it."

"I am sure you could," Lindir conceded, though not before exchanging an amused if bemused glance with Arvain first.

"Indeed," Arvain agreed.

"We will say no more about it," Lindir continued.

"Not one word."

Arvain shook his head slightly too enthusiastically and Lindir bit back a snigger but Halladan glared at them furiously. The sniggering and grins died quickly as they saw his expression.

"Oh, come now, Halladan," Lindir began, "it was only a…"

But Halladan was already on his feet and leaving, seemingly enraged. Arvain got to his feet to go after him while Penny tried to make herself as small as possible, hoping no one would notice how upset she suddenly felt. Looking sideways as Mireth finished her hair, she could just make out Arvain catching up with his brother, grabbing him by the arm to pull him to the stop, and the pair having a heated discussion that involved a lot of hand gestures. Arvain gestured back at the fire at one point, and Halladan's response involved a finger jabbing in the air close to Arvain's sternum. Arvain seemed surprised but also infuriated by this response, and whatever he said in reply had Halladan storming off into the dark once more, leaving Arvain standing in the alley between the tents throwing his hands up in clear exasperation and bewilderment.

Penny did not stay long at the fire after that, and when Arvain offered to walk her back to her tent she gently insisted there was no need. She did make a point of finding Rhimlath in the crowd as she left, though, and apologising for being so sharp with him.

"Oh, no, Pen-ii, Celebdor explained all. I should have realised it was a token from Halladan. Of course it has sentimental value for you. Quite understandable."

Penny boggled at him and felt her heart sink into her boots. Before she could even try to come up with an adequate response, he then surprised her by kissing her hand, saying it was a pleasure to have got to know her over the last few months and that he could see why Lindir liked her so. She was welcome to come to Lothlorien at any time, he added, and he would make her most welcome for as long as he remained there before sailing West. Somewhat surprised and moved by his graciousness, especially after her earlier waspishness with him, Penny hugged him impulsively (which flummoxed him somewhat); for all Rhimlath had at times been a right royal pain in the rear, he had also been good company at times and always been one of those to support her and help distract her when she was feeling low. Penny thanked him for the friendship he had shown, and he could see she meant it.

"You are most welcome, Pen-ii. Any friend of Lindir's and Erestor's is a friend of mine."

It seemed strange to be back on the move the next morning. Penny had risen late and was still bolting down the last of her food even as tents and awnings were collapsing around her. Halladan had also arrived to breakfast late, and Penny wondered if he had done so deliberately in the hope of avoiding her. If that had been his plan, it failed since most had already eaten, so they actually had to eat together – a meal of uncomfortable silence or else short, albeit polite, requests to pass the fruit or hand the other a watersac. Arvain was with them and looked from one to the other with a growing sense that all was not well between them.

At least Halladan was talking to her, Penny thought. Well, not _not_ talking to her, anyway.

Arvain even went so far as making the point of saying, as he and Halladan left, that they would ride with her that day, would they not, Halladan? Halladan was thus forced to contribute to the conversation and agreed that, yes, of course they would do so. He did so with a slightly formal nod of the head in Penny's direction, though. Something about the way he did it made Penny wonder, however: he seemed almost apologetic, faintly embarrassed. She worried it was the awkwardness she had feared rearing its head, but she tried to hold on to the hope that there was always the possibility he now realised he had seriously over-reacted in the past couple of days. Maybe, just maybe, it was the sign of a slight thaw.

The parting of the elves took quite some time. Many were the embraces and clasping of forearms. Galadriel had wandered through the camp from early morning saying last farewells, Celeborn with her. Penny was in the middle of readying her horse, Arvain and Halladan already in the saddle and waiting for her, when her turn came. Galadriel merely stepped over to Penny, kissed her brow and wished her every happiness.

"Remember our conversation, Pen-ii. Let your heart be eased."

And then she was gone, lost in the throng even as Celeborn kissed Penny's hand and smiled an enigmatic smile saying he felt sure he would see her again in years to come when he perhaps paid his grandsons a visit and that he had no doubt she would settle well and quickly with the Dunedain.

Penny resolutely avoided looking at Halladan at that comment.

The company heading north waited for some time before setting off, watching from the top of the hill where they had camped as the Galadhrim set off to the East. Eventually they slowly made their way down past the wood and off on the path to Imladris. An hour or so later, when the Galadhrim were almost lost from view, there was a flash of bright light and then they were gone: Galadriel had lifted her ring to catch the morning sun by way of a last farewell.

For Penny it was a rather unhappy experience to be riding side by side with Halladan once more but with him barely acknowledging her presence. Soon after they set off he found an excuse to go and talk to Elladan about something and thereafter rode with him or one or other of the three remaining Dunedain. Rather than making Arvain feel any more awkward than he already might, Penny offered her horse to an ellith from her tent and went to find Mireth and walk with her for the rest of the day.

After a day of Halladan seemingly trying to avoid her company, that evening Penny decided enough was enough. She had to face the music and, as excruciating as it was likely to be, she had to confront Halladan directly and talk to him about what had happened (or not happened, to perhaps be more exact). Yet she found it was impossible to find him, or else to find him alone. In the early evening he was off bathing, and once returned, he was deep in conversation with Lindir and then another Dunadan.

At the meal round the fire he was perfectly courteous with Penny, but talk was limited to necessity, addressing her directly only if he had to. He did manage a slight, small smile by way of thank you when she offered to do refills and took his tankard along with everyone else's, having seen it was nearly empty, and it certainly seemed genuine enough. If he thanked her, she said he was welcome and vice versa. They had gone from laughter and private chats to courteous civility within the space of two days.

It did not go unnoticed.

At one point Lindir did wonder loudly if there would not be any walk that night, since surely Halladan needed to exercise that leg of his, but Arvain quickly drowned him out with a loud shout to Merry that he sing them a song from the Shire to keep them entertained while they ate. As Merry gladly got to his feet, Penny and Halladan inadvertently exchanged a glance in each other's direction, both showing the other the awkwardness they felt at Lindir's suggestion. Penny looked away quickly, suddenly feeling very upset by that small acknowledgement, that something they had shared so frequently that it had become part of their daily routine now caused Halladan profound embarrassment at the mere mention. She had read awkwardness and perhaps a little guilt in his glance, and she felt as angry at herself as she felt upset. She was determined to behave as normally as possible, though, and resisted the temptation to leave the fire. Perhaps with time, over the next week as they travelled to Imladris, things would thaw more and more so they could return, if not to how they had been, at least to something nearer to friends once more. If he left while things were still this awkward and stilted between them, she was not sure how she would cope with it.

Penny waited all that evening to see if an opportunity might present itself where she could get him alone and talk, but he did not move from the fire in all the time she was there, and at last she could barely keep her eyes open and had to excuse herself. He did not walk her to her tent, but he did at least bid her goodnight along with everyone else. He even caught her eye as he said it and again gave her another soft, small, albeit slightly sad (if sincere) smile.

This time it was Mireth who walked with Penny back to their tent, having said there was something she needed to fetch. She, along with others, was aware that things had changed between the pair and was concerned for Penny. She could see how it was upsetting her.

"What has happened between you two?" she asked at last as Penny readied herself for bed.

Penny paused as she pulled her dress over her head, leaving it to trail from the ends of her arms onto the grass. There was no one else in the tent and Penny made no pretence of hiding her distress. She could feel her chin wobbling.

"Oh, Pen-ii!" Mireth breathed, coming over to her to hug her gently. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Penny shook her head. She really could not bear to admit that she had all but thrown herself at Halladan when Halladan had not been expecting anything of the kind. Somehow she felt instinctively that Halladan would keep what had occurred private out of respect for her and her reputation, and felt she should perhaps do the same. In time, perhaps, she could discuss it with Mireth, but not now, not with it all too raw and too recent. She brushed away a tear from her cheek and pulled her dress sleeves from her hands.

"Oh, you know me, Mireth," she said, trying to force a laugh, to brush it off as nothing too serious. "I always manage to do the wrong thing." She saw Mireth looking at her with some concern. "Things are getting better. We will still be friends."

Mireth took note of the wording but said nothing. She resolved to keep an eye on them both, however.

The next day was the last day before Arvain and the rest of the Dunedain left. After that Halladan and Penny would be left alone in a sea of elves with a handful of hobbits. Penny was not sure she was looking forward to it with things as they stood, but at least that night she finally managed to get Halladan alone.

It had all begun as she had helped Naurdir ready the provisions for the evening meal. Arvain and Halladan were there with the other Dunedain, as much as anything to be sociable before they left the following day. Penny worked quietly under Naurdir's direction, acutely aware of Halladan's presence and throwing occasional glances in his direction. She took note of the fact that, though the rest of the Dunedain were talking loud, many sharing jokes or tales with the elves that had come to join them, Halladan seemed quiet and preoccupied. She assumed that he was no doubt thinking of how much he would miss them all once they were gone.

It was then a snatch of conversation floated over to her.

"And what is this I hear, Halladan? You are leaving with them on the morrow? What brought this change of plans?"

Penny completely forgot what she was doing and the knife in her hand sliced straight into her thumb as she cut herbs straight into one of the pots. Naurdir was at her side instantly, bathing the cut with water even as he called for someone to get the pot of healing salve he always kept with his cooking equipment. Penny sucked at her thumb as she waited, nodding at Naurdir as he asked if she was well while assuring her the cut was a minor one. She looked over at Halladan to see his head was bowed. Arvain was talking quietly to him, brows furrowed, and as he did so, Halladan glanced upwards straight towards her, a guilty expression all over his face. It was obvious what the conversation was about – Arvain had guessed Halladan had not told Penny and was as surprised as Penny had been by this. Halladan waited until the salve had been brought and Naurdir had liberally smeared some onto Penny's finger before shushing Arvain with an 'alright, alright' and getting to his feet. He walked over to Penny.

"Pen-ii, um… we should… Would you care to walk for a moment, Pen-ii?"

He even held out his hand for her to get up.

As she followed him away from the fire Penny's surprise was turning to anger and not a little hurt. When after a few minutes they both felt there was no one else around, both started speaking at once:

"Pen-ii, I should have—"

"You did not think I would—?!"

They both stopped awkwardly. Penny was glaring at him and he could not quite meet her eye.

"Thank you for telling me," she said, perhaps a little more sarcastically than she had meant.

He winced slightly and nodded.

"I meant to. I was going to. I was thinking to, after you had finished with… In truth I only decided last night…" He paused and took a breath as he finally looked her in the eye. "Lord Elrond feels I should not ride alone."

Penny blinked at him, her anger quickly fading.

"I will leave with Arvain tomorrow and ride with him for a week or two. Perhaps more."

"Oh. … I see."

Halladan looked away again and seemed to be struggling for a moment, as if he felt that he needed to say something more but was not sure quite how to put it.

"I am a frank man, Pen-ii. I told you that when first we met. I feel it only fair to tell you, then, that at first Arvain suggested he ride with me to Imladris."

Penny stared at him, her heart sinking.

"I insisted he not change his plans and rather that I leave the company on the morrow. I felt… it was for the best." An awkward glance in her direction left Penny in no doubt what he was now talking about, why he had made that decision. "As your guardian, Pen-ii, it is my duty to see you safe. That I will have amply done by leaving you under the protection of the House of Elrond. He was your guardian in my Father's stead, and though I am to take on the role of guardian from him, I would trust him implicitly to act in my place… I mean in _our_ place… Arvain and I… as your guardians." He coughed awkwardly. "Thus my place should be at my brother's side since my duty as guardian is fulfilled in making sure you are with safe company, which you will be. My duty as a Ranger must take a higher priority for the moment, though I want you to know," he glanced at her once more, "and this is an important point, Pen-ii, my duty as guardian is not one I take lightly. Far from it. As your guardian, I have to…"

Penny felt smaller and smaller every time the word was mentioned.

"…fulfil that duty which my Father laid upon me. I… know you know this, but perhaps I have not been as mindful of it as I should have been. He would have taken on the role of something akin to a father for you, Pen-ii, and likewise I would thus have been like a brother."

'Yes, okay! I get it! I really get it already!'

"I should look on you as a sister, or a daughter, or a niece. As your guardian, I mean."

There was a long pause during which Penny hardly dared to look up at him, but when she finally did so she found he was looking at her with a pained, earnest expression as if desperate to know she understood him. It seemed he had also waited for her to look at him and when he spoke his voice was softer, as were his eyes.

"I am sorry, Pen-ii. Truly."

Penny had to look away at that point, not wanting to show her emotions. He was apologising that he could not return her affections. His fury had given way to pity, of all the damn things. DAMN THIS ALL TO HELL!

"I understand, Halladan," she said quietly. "It is quite right that you should ride with your brother. I had felt guilty about keeping you from your duty as it was. In truth," and she paused as she tried to look him in the eye and failed, her gaze skittering round his face and his shoulders instead, "what happened with the training the other day worried me." She held up a hand as she sensed he was about to say something. "I know, I know. You told me. But if Lord Elrond feels it would be best if you did not ride alone just yet, I would far rather you rode with Arvain than almost anyone else." She tried to stand a little straighter, to force herself into the suitable role. "I am glad of it. It will ease my heart a little."

There was a rather long, awkward silence then during which Halladan nodded slightly, making it clear he understood and accepted her words but was unsure what else, if anything, to say next. Penny just stood in the silence, noticing how different it felt to how it used to be with him and utterly failing to do anything but look him straight in the sternum.

"How is your thumb?"

"What? Oh, it is nothing. A small cut, nothing more. Thank you."

Another long pause.

"Well, perhaps we had better…?" He gestured behind him back towards the fire.

"Yes. Yes, of course."

And they walked back to join the others in silence.

The rest of the evening passed Penny by in something of a haze. There was a fair bit of ale drunk in some quarters, and Arvain seemed to be on particularly good form – perhaps to make up for his brother's rather sombre mood. Penny listened to the chatter, songs and tales, but she kept catching Halladan's eye every now and then, and it struck her that he seemed as dispirited as she did. He would try and give her a half-hearted smile each time, and she in return, but neither truly managed it once.

When at last Penny felt she had to turn in, Arvain insisted on walking her to her tent and Halladan joined them, much to Penny's surprise. He walked on the other side of Arvain from her, resolutely looking ahead or up at the stars from time to time. Arvain, his tongue loosened with ale, chattered about how much he would miss Penny and how much he was looking forward to teaching her about Dunadan life. Penny nodded and tried her best to show willing, but frankly it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Arvain gave her a big hug goodnight and while in normal circumstances even Halladan would have done the same given he was leaving on the morrow, the most he and Penny did was murmur a quiet goodnight to each other. Penny watched them slowly walk back side by side towards the fire, hugging Mireth's shawl around her and not bothering to stop the tears in her eyes – there was no one to see her. At last she turned and ducked into her tent, just in time to miss Halladan turn his head to glance back towards her, his face unreadable in the dark.

Penny woke early for breakfast, though she could eat little. She had decided the night before she would take the conversation with Halladan as an attempt to start anew, for all it had been painful to hear. He had explained how things stood, and she had to accept them. It was clear he felt no anger, or not any more. Perhaps a friendship was still there to be had, and if that was so she was damn well going to do what it took to rebuild it.

When at last they were ready, the three other remaining Dunedain with them, and various elves milling around, come to bid them farewell, Penny found it overwhelming. She would miss them so much and, in spite of what had happened, Halladan especially. She would also worry like mad about him. Arvain could see it in her face.

"I will look out for him, Pen-ii, I promise," Arvain murmured. "You take care of yourself and we will send you word as soon as we might. I do not know how long it will be before one or both of us can get to Imladris to see you. It will depend on… well, what we find in the wilds, on what the situation is." He sounded serious suddenly, then caught the alarm in her eyes. "Oh, never fear, Pen-ii. Whatever there might be, we will deal with it easily enough, of that I am certain."

He grinned that charming grin of his before grabbing her into a tight embrace. When she could finally struggle free (and breathe), she kissed him on the cheek and told him to take good care of himself.

As Arvain turned to his horse, stayed momentarily by farewells from Lindir and Celebdor, Penny wandered over to Halladan who was at the edge of the small group of Dunedain, adjusting the straps on his bedroll.

"Halladan?"

He looked up, saw it was her and gave her another of those soft, small, tight smiles she had got used to seeing in the last few days.

"All prepared?"

He nodded, finished what he was doing and then turned to her fully. She took that as a signal to step over to him. There was a pause, and then they both spoke at once, before stopping, smiling an almost-chuckle and insisting the other continue.

"No, please, Pen-ii, what were you about to say?"

"Only that… please look after yourself, Halladan. May Elbereth go with you and keep you safe." He smiled, but she continued before he could think of interrupting. "And I want you to know that I will do my level best to learn as many useful skills as I can while you and Arvain are away, anything that the elves will think I might need for my new life with you… with you all."

He was still smiling, a warmer, broader smile than she had got from him in days. She smiled back. He was nodding faintly, clearly pleased by what she had said, but then slowly as she watched his expression changed, the smile fading and his face becoming serious.

"Pen-ii, I…" A sigh, and he gently took hold of one of her hands. "I want you to know that… I think highly of you. I have from the moment I first heard of you from Father. I want you to forgive me if, over the last few days, I have seemed…" He looked for the right words, "…a little cold. Perhaps I have been overly so, and for that I apologise. I only thought to… As I said last night, I am your guardian."

"I know Halladan." She could not look at him, just down at her hand in his, and her stomach was so tight it hurt. "I know. I understand. And I should apologise to you. If ever I have done anything to offend you, or to anger you, then know that…"

"You? No, Pen-ii. I should have… behaved a little differently, not allowed matters to... The duty I have towards you is an important one, one given to me by my Father as he lay dying, Pen-ii."

She could not help but look up at him at that, and the intensity in his gaze surprised her a little.

"You have to understand, I swore to him that I would fulfil his duty to you. And I will. But that means that…"

There was a long pause and as she looked at him, not aware if a tear had spilled over onto her cheek or not, Penny read something like guilt in his eyes; guilt, self-blame and what at first seemed like pity, but the longer she looked the more it seemed like… regret? She stared at him even as he glanced down at their hands and then back at her, even as something finally clicked into place in her head at long last.

"I will always be your friend, Pen-ii."

Oh, God, had she actually been ten times a bigger idiot than she had imagined?!

But then the moment was gone, broken, as he let go of her hand suddenly, reaching to the pouch on his belt.

"I almost forgot. Here, this is for you."

He held out the carving he had been working on all this time. Penny, still somewhat bewildered, blinked at it.

"For me? … Truly?"

He smiled. "Of course. I mean… if you like it… It is a rough thing, really. Nothing terribly much…"

Penny was turning it over in her hands, amazed. It was a deer, a doe, lying on its stomach, its hooves tucked under it. It was quite detailed and amazingly well done, especially given the crude tools he had had to use.

"It is not as well finished as I would like – the file was not quite fine enough, but…"

"It is beautiful," Penny breathed.

"Oh, well, I would not say…"

"No, truly, Halladan, I think it is… beautiful." She looked up at him, beaming. "Thank you." She smiled and now it was her turn to have eyes filled with sadness and wishing things could be otherwise. "I will treasure it. I promise."

He nodded, pleased. Then he became aware the others were already horsed and waiting for him, chatting quietly to the elves nearby. He climbed into the saddle then turned his horse, reaching out for Penny's hand.

"Fare you well, Pen-ii."

He gave her hand a squeeze and then let it go. Penny started to say farewell in return even as he turned the horse to join the others as they set off, hands lifted by way of goodbye, but the words died in her throat as it tightened.

She would not cry. She would NOT cry, dammit!

She stood there watching them ride away until they could be seen no more. It was a good half hour or more that she stood, stock still, tears on her cheeks, clutching the carved doe to her breast while the camp was dismantled behind her. Mireth came to stand quietly next to her, placing one arm round her shoulders. Penny tilted her head to rest it against Mireth's chest. Neither said a word, just watched as Arvain, Halladan and the three Dunedain with them disappeared off into the green. Then, as they were about to head over a far distant ridge covered in thorn bushes and gorse and so slip out of view, Halladan turned just once. Immediately Penny stood up straight and lifted her hand, high and flat, hoping that he would see it. He did. He lifted his hand in return, and then was gone.

That day's travel was a very strange affair for Penny. It seemed like a world away from when last they had travelled through this country, though of course now they had Gandalf and the hobbits in their company; Penny felt like she was a different woman. She had seen so much and not simply in the practical sense of seeing different places, landscapes and people. She had been on more than one journey, it seemed, given what she had learnt of the War and its after-effects, and facing the massive guilt she had felt as a consequence. And through most of it, for so long, her support had been Halladan. Now he was gone. It was perhaps unsurprising she was quiet for most of the day.

Her old friends rallied round in quiet support as they always did, no one directly referring to the Dunedain leaving, but making a point of making sure the conversation never lagged, that many jokes were cracked, stories told or songs sung – anything to distract her or to cover her distraction. It was only late that night as Penny got ready for bed that Mireth came to find her and spoke about it openly at last.

"How are you faring, Pen-ii?"

Penny sat on her bedroll with a sigh. She thought for a moment and decided she could not find the words. She shrugged, giving Mireth a sad, lopsided smile, and looked down at her hands in her lap. Mireth came to sit beside her.

"It is only natural you would miss him."

"Well, yes, we did become good friends. But I will miss Arvain as well. And Tadion and Faelon – they were all so kind to me."

"Oh, come, Pen-ii," said Mireth softly. "Do not tell me Halladan does not mean a little more to you than a mere friend?"

Penny glanced up to see Mireth smiling encouragingly at her, perhaps expecting an embarrassed admission or even a girlie gossip. She clearly did not quite expect Penny's face to crumple as it did, her hands coming to her face to smother the sob. She put her arm about Penny's shoulder.

"Hey, now. Hey, now!"

"I am such a fool, Mireth. Truly! A complete fool!"

This served only to baffle Mireth even more and slowly, bit by bit, the whole confused mess came out: how Penny had had no clue until barely a week before (Mireth bit back a smirk at that point and shook her head gently), but how she had realised it was ridiculous and impossible (Mireth might have had a response to that, but had little opportunity to interrupt), but then, oh the sheer embarrassment, worst of all was the moment by the spring. She detailed Halladan's fury and his coldness and reserve, what he had said to her only the night before and then when he had left.

Mireth listened carefully to it all and let Penny finish.

Then she dropped the bombshell.

"Ai, Pen-ii. It always amazes me how sometimes people can not see what is in front of them. I will tell you something, Celebdor was the same. Even I knew he liked me, and he would get so flustered and red if I asked him to dance. It would make Arwen and Eleniel laugh so hard! Pen-ii, it has been clear to everyone who knows you both that Halladan liked you in return. I suspect that, just as you little realised it, his first inkling of it was when he came close to kissing you at the spring – do not interrupt, I am sure that is what happened! I have known him since he was a babe, and his father and grandfather before him. He is of the old stock, Pen-ii, and his sense of duty and responsibility is strong – did he not stand forth when still a boy to help his father bring up the other two? It is his nature. He spoke to you of his duty as guardian, how he should look on you as a sister or even, if standing in his father's stead, as a daughter, and that is how he will see it. Imagine his shock, then, to realise his feelings were something more than that? Something that no brother or father should ever feel?"

Penny stared at her, barely able to get her head round it. So she had been right when she had thought she had read regret in his eyes when they had said farewell. How could she have been this _stupid_, to not have even realised…?!

"What did you mean, 'That is how he will see it'?"

Mireth looked uncomfortable. "In truth? There is no taboo in a guardian marrying their ward. It is not the norm, I will admit, but it is not unheard of. At the same time… well, it is unusual, and given Halladan's strong sense of duty… let alone the fact that he is following his dying father's wishes…" She trailed off.

Penny nodded, feeling a tad overwhelmed by it all. So, it seemed the end result would be the same in spite of this new revelation. She was not sure if realising the truth of it made things any easier to deal with or worse.

"But what of his being a Dunadan? I mean, I am… no-one, Mireth. I have no skills, I am totally unsuitable as a wife."

Mireth laughed. "Nonsense! We can teach you and you will learn. You have learnt so much in less than a year, Pen-ii, so have no fear on that score." She laughed once more as Penny raised a sceptical and unconvinced eyebrow at her. "As for his being a Dunadan, then he would not be the first to marry a non-Dunadan. No, no, these are matters that would be easily overcome, I can assure you, not least because in the eyes of the Dunedain, any mortal who has had the patronage of Lord Elrond is almost of honorary Dunadan status, let alone the fact that Halbarad himself had committed himself to your welfare, with Aragorn's blessing." She sighed. "No, it is Halladan himself that would be the barrier to anything more than friendship. And, while I would not agree with him, I can understand why he would think that way."

Penny nodded. So could she.

Over the next few days, therefore, she resigned herself all over again to the fact that nothing would ever happen between Halladan and herself. This time, however, she also resolved to try and make things as easy as she could for him when next she saw him and from then on: while she would maintain their friendship, she would try to keep if not a distance, at least be more aware of the fact that they were guardian and ward.

In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she began to think through the real practicalities of any marriage prospects. Putting aside the obvious deficiencies in her suitability due to lack of basic housekeeping, culinary and craft skills, there was also the very real fact of her particular situation. While Gandalf had told her to live her life as if she was here to stay, he had not been able to guarantee that she would do so. Imagine if she were to marry, perhaps even have children, and then one day – POOF – she was gone, back to the future (to steal a phrase), leaving a family behind her in much the same state that her modern day family were in now? She would never let anyone go through that again, not if she could possibly help it. And certainly not any man she loved.

From that point on, then, she not only accepted her presumed fate as a spinster, she chose it willingly and decided to make the best of it.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Thanks for the many, MANY comments the last chapter generated - had a feeling it might, lol! Please be advised the next chapter is not yet written, so while I will get on to it straight away I cannot give any guarantee for how quickly it may or may not arrive. Hopefully soon, but RL is up and down, so... Sorry!

Also: I don't usually explain my chapter titles. Either people get the reference or recognise the saying/song lyric/quote (if there is one - it's not always the case that there is), or they don't. But I have a feeling 'pear shaped' is very much British slang, possibly even London slang. So for the benefit of non-Brits: if something's 'gone pear shaped' it means it's all gone horribly wrong.


	56. Home Again, Home Again

**Chapter 56** – _"Home Again, Home Again, (Jiggety-jig)"_

In many ways the arrival at Imladris felt to Penny like coming home. In part it was the very nature of the place – it was not called 'The Last Homely House' for no reason – and the way of the elves that any enclave of theirs was a place of warmth, repose and ease where any heart felt comforted and comfortable. However, after the long journey through ever-changing scenery and peoples, Imladris had become something of a 'base camp' in her mind, the place of return where she felt at her most relaxed, where she knew what was what and how things were rather than feeling like an object of suspicion, derision, ridicule or contempt. Yes, she had her issues with being unskilled and a little useless, but these people were her friends and she had been made to feel very much part of the general company amongst them, something she had noticed very particularly on their travels when she had found how out of sorts she was with other mortals (apart from the Dunedain) and even other elves, as the stand-offishness of most of the Galadhrim towards her had proved.

Dusk had been drawing in when at last they crossed over the little bridge to the trees and the twinkling lights beyond the great gates, singing all round them and those left behind coming to greet them with smiles and embraces and song. The hobbits had barely leapt from their ponies before they were haring through the corridors calling out for Bilbo, soon found snoozing beside a fire somewhere. For Penny, as she had led her horse to the stables behind Lindir and several others, there was a strange sense of relief to be back, a sense that she was finally back on firm ground and could put all the stress and trauma of the last couple of months behind her at long last.

The next day she was invited to celebrate Bilbo's birthday tea with him, along with quite a few others including Gandalf. He apologised profusely for not having got any presents ready for them though the elves there protested it was hardly practical nor possible for him to consider giving gifts to everyone in the place.

"We have this discussion with him every year," Mireth murmured quietly to Frodo.

"Well, you arrived so unexpectedly," Bilbo explained. "I mean to say we knew you would be back around this sort of time, but the day before my birthday? Well, well." He chuckled. "Perfect timing on Elrond's part, of course. He knew you would want to be here."

A little while later as he dozed quietly in the best chair nearest the fire and everyone else finished off the fresh-made seedcake Naurdir had made specially for the occasion, and Gandalf and the rest of the hobbits happily puffed on their pipes, Pippin could not help but remark softly how much older Bilbo seemed. There was a lull in the murmured conversation in the room after he had spoken as everyone became briefly lost in their thoughts, and it was just a long enough pause for Bilbo to stir slightly and half open one eye.

"Of course, I'm older," he muttered. "It is my birthday, after all."

Then he drifted off once more muttering something about 'fool of a Tuk' which had everyone looking at Gandalf in some amusement. Gandalf coughed slightly.

"We may have, um, had one or two discussions in the past about the merits or otherwise of being a member of certain hobbit family trees. Ahem. Oh, stop sulking into your tea like that, Razanur, even you would be the first to admit that…"

"I am not sulking in the least. After all, it is the eccentric wanderings of a certain Labingi family that are all the talk of Suza."

Frodo's laughter was just as loud as everyone else's, even more so when Bilbo stirred in his 'sleep' once again, this time to note that the level of 'bare faced cheek' seemed to be undiminished in certain quarters.

Later that evening at supper in the great dining hall, Penny was quizzed on her local customs at birthdays.

"I take it you celebrate them?" Frodo asked her, repeating the question for her in Sindarin since she seemed unsure of the word 'celebrate'.

"Of course they do!" Merry exclaimed. "Who cannot resist the excuse for a party?!"

Sam was looking wistful, his cheek in his hand and his elbow on the table as he stabbed absently at his stew with a spoon.

"That is something I have missed. A real, good party. With proper Suza ale."

"And Gandalf's fireworks!"

"And the party tree!"

"Ah, yes," Frodo was laughing, "we have had some good times there in the past."

Penny felt uncomfortable at the mention of it, but managed to cover it by taking a sip of wine. Talk of the Shire had slowly increased the nearer they had got to Imladris, and now that they knew that the next part of the journey would be the homeward stretch and had met up with Bilbo once more it was often on the lips of the hobbits. Penny was glad that, now she was back in Imladris with a hundred things to do and a thousand things to learn, she would be able to very easily escape such talk with readily found excuses to be busy elsewhere: something that had not always been possible whilst travelling.

"Forgive us, Pen-ii," Frodo turned to her, smiling. "You were saying?"

"Yes, we do celebrate such things. We might have a party or do something fun with friends and family. The only difference is that it is the one whose birthday it is that gets presents, rather than them giving presents to others."

Frodo quickly translated for the other three, though Pippin had picked up a smattering of Sindarin during his time at Gondor and then travelling north in the company and nodded as Frodo spoke as if he had understood it all the first time round. The revelation that you got presents on your birthday rather than giving them was met with some astonishment.

"But you do have a party?" Merry asked. Penny nodded.

"And good food?" Sam chipped in. Penny nodded once again and grinned as her answer was met with broad smiles and general approval.

"So, when is your birthday, then?"

It was Pippin who had asked, in all innocence, but Penny's hesitation as she realised she had no idea exactly within the elvish or even Shire calendar did not go unnoticed. Pippin actually opened his mouth to apologise if he had caused her any discomfort, remembering that, of course, the last time they had all been together in Imladris she had still been suffering from her apparent amnesia and rescue from the wilds.

"Winter," she managed to say in her poor Westron. "Very…" She waved her hands, struggling for the word. She turned to Frodo and resorted to Sindarin. "Late autumn, very early winter," she explained. "I do not know when it is exactly with your calendar. Ours is different."

"Then you should find out," Frodo said with a friendly, sincere smile. "After all, the leaves will be turning golden all too soon, indeed autumn is already upon us. Perhaps it is not too far off?"

Yes, she supposed it probably would be soon. Not more than a month and a half at most, and possibly less.

She felt a slight pang at the realisation. She had been here nearly a year. It seemed like a lifetime. Of course, she had been aware in retrospect, especially when she had discussed the calendar with Erestor long ago, that she had 'missed' her birthday last time round, but then she had had a lot of other things to think about at the time given it had probably been barely two or three weeks after the horrible, nightmarish day when Halbarad had first found her. That and it would have seemed very odd to have marked it, given it had been January when she had 'left' and not even three months since the last time she had…

Yeah, there was that pang again.

Mum had cooked her meal the night before, she remembered, and had invited her brother over, though he had turned up late and not bothered with a present, claiming he was skint.

"I'll buy you a drink some time," he had said, grinning.

She had very nearly said something sarcastic in reply but had caught Mum's eye and bitten her tongue. She had overheard Mum giving him what-for later in the kitchen, though, saying the least he could have done was buy a card. Not that it mattered. It was par for the course where Michael was concerned, so she had hardly been surprised. She would have been more shocked if he _had_ bought her a present, to be frank.

The night of her birthday proper she had gone out for a quick drink with her work colleagues before meeting up with old friends for a meal and a tour of the bars before meandering down to one of the parks on the south of the river for the fireworks and bonfire. She had come home arm in arm with one of her best mates, laughing drunkenly, each holding a huge balloon in the shape of a banana. Then eaten ice cream and gossiped till the early hours on her sofa. It had been a hoot.

She was aware the conversation around her had moved on, Frodo having translated her words and now the hobbits sharing reminiscences of 'parties we have known'. She made her excuses and went to find Erestor. The situation was explained and they wandered to his study where, on examining the calendar he had in one of his many large, leather-backed tomes and making a quick calculation based on the sheaf of notes he had made earlier in the year when she had explained the Gregorian calendar to him, it was clear that the seventh of November would be in a little over five weeks time.

It was a rather odd feeling to have the day firmly fixed in her mind at last.

"We shall have to find some way to celebrate it for you," Erestor said.

"Oh," she had flapped a hand vaguely at him, embarrassed slightly that it might seem that that was what she had been angling for. "There is no need to…" She was also not wholly sure she really wanted to mark the occasion given the memories and sense of loss it would inevitably invoke.

"We shall not make a big occasion of it. None of us would wish it to become too strong a reminder of those you have lost, but it still should be marked in some small way much as we did for Bilba earlier this afternoon. Speak to Naurdir. See if there is anything in particular you would like him to make for you."

Penny remained non-committal, not wanting to make a fuss for several different reasons, and left hurriedly for bed. Erestor, however, discreetly took it upon himself to tell her friends when the day would be and discuss how best to they might mark it for her in as unobtrusive a way possible while also not letting Penny know any of it.

No sooner had they returned to Imladris than life for Penny quickly settled into a routine, much of it involving learning new skills or improving old ones in several different areas of expertise at once; and she threw herself into it all with gusto. She relished having things to learn and to occupy her time. After the decision she had made regarding marriage in general (and Halladan in particular, in the unlikely event that would ever come to anything), having things to distract her from the sadness she sometimes felt helped enormously and was something of a comfort, but she was also just as determined to do her damnedest to learn as much as she could from what the elves could teach her in advance of going to live with Faelon's family. Even so, within a day or two, Penny quickly realised she was suffering from information overload and again sought out Erestor, who gifted her a small book with blank pages where she could carefully write out notes each evening on everything she had learnt that day.

She was placed on the cleaning rota, usually with Mireth or one of the other ellith that had shared her tent for all those months. Every other day, first thing after breakfast, she would find herself sweeping, mopping floors, dusting, or whatever was needed. This in itself was nothing new since she had joined in on such regular duties before, but now the ellith would take the opportunity to teach her about specific tips and methods for general housekeeping: how best to clean certain items and stains, be they on furniture, walls or clothes. She was also told she would learn how to make soap, scented oils and shampoos, as well as what plants could be used for cleaning.

For at least one meal every day she was in the kitchens with Naurdir helping him prepare the dish or dishes of the day as one of the several that worked there under his supervision. Once again this was something she had done before, but now, as her confidence and ability progressed, Naurdir began to teach her various easy-to-make dishes, getting her to cook them by herself – perhaps just enough for one or two people, sometimes more, but for no more than six people at any one time, a plateful at most - and then whoever was unfortunate enough to be collared by her in the dining hall would be the guinea-pigs for these first culinary attempts.

At first she could tell people were being polite. Elves would chew smilingly but have no more than a few mouthfuls. The hobbits were marginally less picky about their food but were also more vocal in their tips – it needed more salt, was a little undercooked for their taste, if she tried adding this herb or that vegetable next time, perhaps? But as the weeks went by there were one or two dishes that she managed to cook to a certain level of competence, and certainly Naurdir felt she was picking things up. She found that having watched him and leant him a hand so frequently as they had travelled had helped her quite considerably since, even if what they had cooked in the camps had been basic and repetitive, as she had worked Naurdir had often spoken to her about various recipes, dishes and how particular flavours combined. In many ways he had mentally prepped her for the learning to come, though she had little realised it at the time.

He also insisted she regularly come to watch (and, soon enough, to help) whenever there was an animal carcass, large or small, to be butchered.

"You have to learn, Pen-ii. When Halladan or Faelon comes home with hare, fish, birds or deer, you will have to help cut it up. On occasion you might have to do so by yourself. You need to know what parts of the animal are used in which ways and how best to cut them for cooking or preserving."

"I know, Naurdir, I know!"

So, slowly, she learnt how to not only carve up animals, prepare the various constituents and cook them, but also how to smoke, salt or dry the meat (and which bits of the animal were best used for that). Of course, this also included explanations on how the whole animal could be used – how to cook and extract the marrow, how to prepare the sinews so that they could be used for binding and sewing, how to scrape the skins and then leave them stretched out to dry, how horns and even bone could be used to make tools and useful or decorative objects.

Nor was it only meat she learnt to preserve. With the annual autumn glut of produce well underway, now was the time for making jams, preserves and jars of pickled or preserved whole fruits and vegetables to tide Imladris for many months to come. In discussions over afternoon tea with the hobbits which occasionally Penny could not avoid, they also passed on their own particular tips and recipes (of which they had umpteen) for such things. Sam was, inevitably, a mine of useful information of how to best store fruit and veg.

Watching him at work with Celebdor, it was obvious he took a quiet enjoyment in carefully washing and drying the apples, then laying them out in the low wooden crates made especially for their storage and covering them in straw. He missed tilling the Shire's rich soil, though, and felt it keenly each time he helped dig up a fresh batch of potatoes or pull a few cabbages. It was why, if she could, Penny for the most part tried to work in another part of the kitchen gardens from him, though on those occasions when they worked side by side there was a strange bitter-sweet thrill to hear him talk of such things.

Also under Naurdir's direction, Penny tried her hand at preparing everyday staples such as cheese, bread and butter. Again, much of this she had seen being done before, but now it was as if she were a true apprentice, not a mere observer or interested passer-by. Every step would be carefully explained, with whoever was teaching her asking her questions to check she had understood. Then they would examine her technique, correcting her where need be, and then insist she come back another time to do it all again… and again… and then tell her she was part of the regular crew and would be expected to turn up as and when called upon which, given there was much to be done since Imladris had been running on a something close to a skeleton crew for some months, meant she had little time when she was not doing one thing or another. But a busy Penny was a happy Penny, so she was not complaining.

In each of these matters she was taught the techniques, often only watching the first several times unless it was felt it was a simple enough task for her to try it herself. They also only taught her those things that, within Dunedain society, a woman would be either expected to do or it would not be unusual for them to do. As they said to her, whether she achieved any level of competence within the months she had before she was to leave was almost of no consequence, so long as none of these techniques were wholly unfamiliar and an anathema to her when she faced them under Morfinniel's gentle tutelage. That was the point. If, however, she picked up a technique quickly enough so as to be at a reasonable level of ability prior to that, then all to the better, but it was not the main aim nor, did it seem, was it expected. They were patient with her and Penny concentrated hard and listened and watched carefully. This time round it was less about 'finding something to fill your time with so you can help out a little' and more about 'learning the essential skills you will need in the years ahead.'

Meanwhile, Mireth measured her for two new winter dresses. Penny was itching to use the red fabric from Gondor, but Mireth pointed out that was a lighter material, more suitable for warmer weather, and while she might get some wear out of it before winter set in, of more immediate concern were heavier weight dresses that would also stand up better to gardening, cleaning and feeding the pigs. Mireth insisted she be kitted out for a full wardrobe, though the two dresses would be the start of it. By the time she left Imladris, Penny would have summer and winter dresses, two shawls, a full-length hooded cloak that, in typical elvish style, was both incredibly lightweight and yet both warm and waterproof, several pairs of leggings, a pair of calf-length, calf-skin, rabbit fur lined boots for winter as well as four pairs of elvish delicate slipper shoes, and several shifts along with, of course, at Penny's request, four or five bust-supporting blouses.

This latter involved Mireth and Penny discussing between them how best to make such a thing, Penny drawing a 'bra' as best she could on the slates in the sewing room to explain her point while the ellith crowded round and eyed the drawing with interest. Over the coming weeks, Mireth and Penny between them modified the standard pattern for the top of a shift with darts so that it was tighter round the bust, but also offered support underneath by the means of fasteners as well as a thin strap to be tied at the back. Mireth assured Penny it would be easy enough to produce a full length shift with similar support, though she did not think it would be comfortable for sleeping in, hence Penny keeping several 'ordinary' shifts within her wardrobe.

All this was for the coming weeks and months, however. For now, Penny got to watch every stage as her two new dresses were made from scratch, becoming part of the team to help in doing so. Once the pieces were being quickly sewn together, Mireth then declared that, rather than continue with teaching Penny embroidery and fancywork (which she could continue in her own time since it was simply a case of practise and perfecting technique), she would teach her the practical things she would need to do with a needle whilst helping to run a house. Penny could now manage a few basic stitches and, while they did not have the neatness of an elf's, nor could she manage the speed at which they could work, they were fair enough, so Mireth said, as to be a start. Thus it was that it became generally made known that if anyone had a tunic that needed mending or a work apron that needed patching that Penny was in the market to learn how.

Lindir was the first to brave her 'skill'. He arrived at the sewing room one afternoon with an old, patched tunic that he usually wore when mucking out the horses saying that he was more than capable of mending it himself (which he was), but he wanted to see just how bad a job she would make of it.

"Oh, thank you very much!"

"Prove me wrong," he said, grinning and giving her a wink.

And she did.

"Not too bad," he had to admit when he inspected the brand new patch she had put on it. "A little too small, perhaps, and a little tight, but for a first attempt it is very fair."

Penny beamed.

Lindir did not tell her that he later removed it and sewed it back on before using the tunic. She had indeed done a reasonable job for a first attempt; it was simply that he knew that one bend of his elbow would be all it would take for the thing to just rip straight off again if he did not redo it.

As the days passed she cut curds, kneaded dough, managed to dissect a rabbit (admittedly already beheaded, de-skinned and de-footed) under Naurdir's sharp gaze without even feeling nauseous, was out feeding the chickens or the goats before breakfast most mornings, washed beautifully mosaiced corridors and repaired half the ancient tunics in Imladris (or so it seemed).

Aside from all this work organised for her she usually had between a few to several hours every day, most often in the afternoons, free to do as she pleased. She would spend this time variously, depending upon her mood or the weather. For the most part she was out in the gardens learning from Celebdor as best she could. He also made a point of explaining not just what needed to be done now that autumn was upon them, but what would be done throughout the year. As well as cropping, there were seeds to be collected, others sown, propagating to be done, clearing, digging… Penny loved working there and was showing some potential skill as a budding gardener. Celebdor's main focus with her was the fruit, vegetables and herbs since that is what she would need to know for her life ahead of her.

Indeed, this latter work inspired her to ask Mireth to teach her a little basic herbal medicine, so sometimes Mireth would walk with her through the herb gardens pointing out the plants, teaching Penny their names and their uses. Penny would diligently then write them out that evening along with everything Celebdor and everyone else had taught her that day, often bringing her book, quill and ink to a quiet room with Mireth sewing beside her so she could double-check the name of something with Mireth if she needed to.

As well as gardening she also went back to painting pots and struggling to try and improve her skills at the potter's wheel (with some slow progress it had to be said). She teasingly scolded the potters for having given her over the odds for the pots she had painted for them when they went to market; and while they admitted it, grinning, they did also say that the pots she painted had sold well since "the ordinary mortals here in the north are, for the most part, so over-awed by the beauty of an elvish piece that we like to keep things that we send to market relatively simple," it was explained. "Your decorations suit mortal tastes admirably well. They have the satisfaction of knowing the piece is crafted by elves and thus is well made to the highest standard, while the pattern being simple and basic enough to be of functional use whilst being pleasing to the eye."

It was not quite a back-handed compliment, but close to it.

Sometimes she would spend an hour or so with Erestor in his study, discussing the history of the Dunedain and the north which was a subject that fascinated her given it was something she had known almost nothing about prior to arriving in Imladris. She had gleaned much from her time sat by the Dunedain fires from their stories and song, but it had been somewhat haphazard and without any sense of the overall historical context – who was who and where they came in the timeline. Erestor, ever happy to find an eager pupil, was glad to discuss it all with her, lend her books on Dunedain history including collections of poems, stories and ballads, and also get others who had witnessed much of it firsthand to tell her of their own experiences either in general or of a specific individual or event from centuries long past. Several times she found herself surrounded by Elrond, Elrohir, Elladan, Glorfindel and a few others telling tales from long ago, much to her delight and amusement. Bilbo nearly always managed to appear for such discussions as well, often with Gandalf in tow.

Bilbo wholeheartedly approved her having been 'adopted' by the Dunedain (as he put it). He had a great respect for Aragorn and thought highly of the Dunedain he had met (which was quite a number of them given the length of time he had now lived at Imladris). He remembered Halbarad's boys and had been sorry to hear of the loss of both Halbarad and Hirvell. His strongest memory of Halladan, he said, would forever be of a tall youth, just on the edge of manhood, about to ride out to hunt in wrinkly leggings. Penny laughed.

"Ah, yes, they told me about that. It seems Halladan had to put up with quite a lot from his brothers when they were younger."

"So I gather, so I gather," Bilbo said, nodding thoughtfully. Then gently sucking on his pipe he narrowed his eyes at the board, leaned forwards and zig-zagged his piece across it and sat back to look at her. "You have got rusty, Pen-ii, during your long time away."

She shrugged and smiled. "You always did beat me, Bilba."

Just then the door burst open as Frodo held it open for Merry and Pippin who had two trays laden with tea, cakes, bread, jam, butter, cheese and more fruit than even seemed reasonable. Sam was behind them, a jug of milk in one hand a large seedcake in the other.

"Ah, you're here, Pen-ii? Good!" Frodo was smiling. "Ban was not sure if you would be able to come today given how firmly buried you were in the orchard when he left you last, and we missed you yesterday."

Pippin caught sight of the draughts board.

"Ai, Pen-ii! You did not agree to play Bilba _again_, did you?" He laughed. "Will you never learn?"

Bilbo hrumphed and, magnanimous in victory, said Penny was a reasonable player… in her own way. Penny shook her head at him, laughing, and began to pour the tea even as Gandalf, Mireth and Elrohir arrived to join them.

Erestor had also offered to give Penny occasional art lessons, an offer she was thrilled to accept. He taught her to use charcoal or ink and quill on large, thin pieces of wood that could then be washed off and reused. At first it was an awkward way of working, but she soon got the hang of it. She preferred the charcoal at first, finding it easier and more instinctive, but after a while appreciated the detail she could achieve with the quill, and so she would alternate between the two.

At first she felt her pictures to be ridiculously simplistic and childish, especially compared to the astonishing artwork visible even in the elegant friezes round Imladris, but Erestor was, as ever, a patient and gentle teacher, encouraging and genuinely helpful in the advice he gave. If they were outside then often they would be joined by one or two others – Glorfindel, Lindir or Elrohir, perhaps – who would talk quietly or read to themselves while Penny worked. Once Bilbo and Gandalf came to sit with them, Glorfindel allowing Bilbo to recite to him snatches of a poem about Gondolin he was working on (Erestor had raised an eyebrow and glanced at Penny who had suppressed a snigger) while Gandalf lit his pipe and puffed contentedly.

However, aside from all these various skills that Penny needed to learn or perfect, and which helped to keep her mind occupied, there was another perhaps more pressing matter that needed dealing with. It had been hanging over her for quite some time now, and she had only been waiting for the return to Imladris to finally be able to talk to Mireth alone and where there would be no danger of interruption or elvish ears flapping like crazy.

It took a few days for Penny to get her head round the routine before she had an opportunity to ask Mireth to come with her to her room at a time when she knew neither of them would have to rush off anywhere for a while so that they could talk privately and at length if need be.

She began shyly at first, not really knowing quite how to go about it, and in the end rambled on about how sorry she was for not telling Mireth sooner, how she had wanted to but with the lack of privacy while travelling there had never been a good opportunity and then the longer she had gone without saying anything, the more difficult it had seemed to even broach the subject. At last Penny got to the point, Mireth sitting patiently beside her on the bed, smiling softly, as Penny blurted out that her foresight had not quite been foresight exactly and she had never had amnesia, when suddenly Mireth gently took Penny's hand into her own, stopping her short in mid-chaotic flow.

"I know," she said simply, and Penny gaped at her.

"Wh-what?"

"Arwen confided in me, in Eleniel also, a week or two before we left Minas Tirith."

Penny could do nothing but blink at her in stupefaction.

"She explained that you were alarmed by the idea of too many people knowing, how you had reacted to Lindir's close questioning. But then, that is Lindir for you, he can be like a rat with a bone at times!" She laughed. "Both Eleniel and I realised long ago that all was not quite as it seemed, but we trusted Elrond and Arwen and those others who seemed to know more and that was enough for us. Arwen herself explained that you would probably tell us in your own time, but even if you did not she wanted those ellith closest to you to know if only… well, if only so we could help you should you need us." Mireth smiled gently. "I am glad she did. It made some of the distress and turmoil you were in once we reached Rohan make more sense to me. I was better able to help you in the night when you had nightmares, for example."

"Why did you never say anything?" Penny's voice now barely a husky whisper with emotion.

"It was up to you to tell me, Pen-ii. I do not blame you for not telling me sooner, indeed I understand why you felt you could not. It was enough for me to be able to help in my own way. You had many others round you in whom you could confide more deeply. Besides, I already knew you had had detailed 'foresight' of what had taken place and some of what was to come. You had told me that much yourself. I already knew you had memory of your family, home and the society in which you grew up. What more does this knowledge add other than to give me a better idea of just how very distressing much of what you had been through would be for you? Do not feel guilty that you did not tell me before now. Feel glad that Arwen wanted two ellith she trusts greatly to have this knowledge about you so that they could better look after you."

Penny felt like a great weight had lifted off her shoulders as she hugged Mireth tight. She had shown her such true and kind friendship from her first day in Imladris that Penny really did not know how she could ever thank her enough. At least this now meant that, at last, the final barrier between them had fallen, and Penny could finally talk openly to Mireth just as she had always wanted to, though in truth it was hardly mentioned or referred to directly. It was enough to know that the other knew. That alone brought them closer.

Time passed quickly. But for all Penny had much to occupy herself with, both physically and mentally, there were still those moments when her thoughts drifted - perhaps in those few minutes as she lay in her bed at night, exhausted, waiting for sleep to wash over her or else when even physically occupied she was not mentally taxed such as when she sewed stitch after stitch down the sleeve of someone's tunic or had an entire row of turnips to unearth – and they always drifted to the same thought.

Halladan.

Where was he? How was he faring? How was his leg and, perhaps more importantly, how was he in himself? Had he had any more 'episodes'? What had he had to face so far? What had he found in the wilds or amongst his own? How changed was it?

God, she missed him. She missed his smile, his comforting presence, his laughter – that soft, deep, chuckle of his that would sometimes burst forth into a dark, hearty, full-throated laugh that you could not help but smile at in return it was so infectious. She missed his eyes, those soft grey eyes that caught the starlight.

Did he ever think about her?

Of course, she would get angry with herself the moment such thoughts entered her head, or at least once perfectly understandable wonderings about how he fared would then morph into that dull ache of separation and longing, followed inevitably by sadness for what could never be. It achieved nothing. The whole was a pointless exercise that only upset her. It was best avoided.

And yet she constantly thought of him, despite her best efforts.

Of course it was not helped by the fact that no word had reached her of what things were like out there beyond the safety net spun round the Vale of Imladris. She had no idea if the Dunedain had come home to a few ruffians lurking in the wilds or whole batches of evil things that had taken advantage of the absence of so many of the Rangers and poured north and west.

Often when Mireth and Penny sat together in the late afternoon or evening, doing a little sewing or Penny diligently scratching into her note book, Mireth would look up to find Penny staring out of a window, distracted.

"I am sure he is safe enough, Pen-ii," she would murmur and Penny, startled out of her reverie, tried to play dumb the first time it happened but quickly accepted that Mireth knew her well enough.

"I know," she would mutter. "I do, it is just…" She would shrug.

"I understand. But Elrond had done much to aid him, do not forget. That last episode in the camp was a very minor thing."

And so Mireth would talk a little about elves she had known who had suffered similarly, how even Lindir had been affected when he lost his brother during the Battle of the Last Alliance, and how his distress had triggered a deep melancholy and brought back bitter memories when he then lost Meluieth, his betrothed.

But in truth it was not that Penny needed the reassurance that the elves knew well about such things, that he had been in the best possible healing hands during his time with them. It was the nagging worry of the unknown – of what he might or might not be facing and that it might well be he would be in his first full fight since he had seen Hirvell cut to pieces in front of his eyes. God alone knew what might or might not be triggered in such a situation.

Mireth could sense her anxiety and did her best to comfort her at such times.

Some word had come through to those that tended Elrond's House in his absence, but for the most part the Dunedain, knowing Elrond and his household were gone south, had been sporadic in their visits. Penny had not known that even before they left there had been some rumour of one or two strangers seen in the region, though at the time little was thought of it.

It was two weeks before the first Dunadan arrived at Imladris after Elrond's return, bringing with him news of the outside world and what it had faced these past few months. There was no reason why Penny would be a party to such information, and even if she had known who knew (though she could have guessed at some of those who had been present at the private interview in Elrond's study), part of her was almost afraid to ask. It had been enough to overhear Lindir and Glorfindel commenting that those who had been on guard duty on the borders while they were gone had not been wholly idle.

The Dunadan when he came was not one she recognised, not having been one of the Grey Company that went south. He was perhaps a little older than Halladan but there was something about him that reminded her of Bregion, and she was not surprised to learn therefore that he was the second son of Bregion's second cousin. He sought her out that evening as the company gathered in the Hall of Fire after supper.

"You must be Lady Pen-ii," he said, bowing his head slightly. "I have a message from Arvain and Halladan to let you know that they hope to be here within a week or so if they can."

She tried to ignore the happy leap within her.

"How are they? You have seen them?"

He shook his head.

"No, but I met Bregion just a little north-west of here and he had run into them both a week previously."

They talked a little – just idle talk about nothing much. He asked how she had liked the south and she was fairly brutally honest in her assessment of Gondor. He said he had heard she was to live with Faleon and his family and said he knew Morfinniel would take good care of her. Then he excused himself as he spotted Gandalf across the room, saying there were some things he needed to discuss with him.

By morning he was gone, having left at first light.

That same day was to be the hobbits' last. The autumn nights were getting chill and all four had been getting increasingly restless, their thoughts turning ever homeward. Penny had been sorry to have not spent more time in their company in the fortnight since they had all got back, but the weight of what they would find once they got back to The Shire lay too heavily over her still, in spite of Galadriel's assurances. Had it been within her to do so she would have urged them to leave straight away, but she knew she had to let matters take their own course and in that respect Galadriel's words gave her strength and if not peace of mind then certainly acceptance.

She still wondered about Gandalf and how much he might or might not know. Only once did she catch him looking at her thoughtfully, sitting across the room from her in the Hall of Fire. It had been the same night of the Dunadan's arrival, just after he had come from Elrond's study where he had been in long consultation with him and various others upon whatever it was the Dunadan had had to relate. Penny had glanced up to find his gaze turned in her direction, his expression knowing and a little sad and then, before she could turn away or go to him or speak or do any one of the umpteen things that came to her mind all at once, his face had changed and he had turned to Sam sitting beside him with a ready smile and the moment was gone.

There had been a strange distance between them, growing slowly, almost imperceptible in its creep, ever since they had left Gondor. Before he had left as one of Elrond's Nine Walkers he had been someone she could turn to, but now… It was like there was an unvoiced gulf between them, a white elephant in the room with them that neither of them referred to or acknowledged. And yet… and yet he had come to her that night when she had said farewell to her family, and he had always had a smile for her in gatherings, included her in any tale he told or thrown a witty side comment to her on occasion. It was as if they were both waiting until such time as it was finally all over and then they could talk freely once more. Penny did not know why she felt this to be the case, only that she was certain it was so, and that brief moment in the Hall of Fire only seemed to confirm it.

The night before the hobbits left, they were the focus of attention in the Hall of Fire. Long were the tales told in their honour and songs sung, so much so that even Pippin and Merry were flushing as much as Sam. Bilbo nodded off quietly but every now and then would rouse himself and say 'hear, hear', then turn to Frodo and mutter about how good it had been of him to 'stop off and see him for a little while before heading on home.'

Penny made a point of sitting with the hobbits at breakfast and, as she said, enjoying one last pot of tea with them all if only for old time's sake. She assured Merry she would continue to have tea with Bilbo every afternoon once they had gone, just as she had done when they had left the last time.

It seemed like the whole of Imladris had come to see them off. Those that were not milling round the steps were already in amongst the trees and singing gently. Penny took her farewell of them all in turn, and each of the four kissed her hand, Sam taking a moment to say in very slow Westron so she could understand him that he was glad that she seemed so much better than before, that he wished her well amongst the Dunedain and that he felt sure she would be well looked after.

"After all, they are kin of Aragorn and that alone should be enough for anyone." He paused, his open and honest face looking up into hers. "We are glad for you, Pen-ii, for you seemed so very lost and distressed when we first met you."

Penny, moved by the sincerity in his tone, did not know what to say.

"Take care, Ban. I feel so honoured and proud to have met you all and to have known you if only a little while. Look after Maura, won't you?"

She had lapsed into Sindarin and as Sam smiled uncomprehendingly at her, Frodo, who Penny had not realised was standing so near, translated.

"She is telling you to look after me, Ban." He seemed amused.

"Oh, that I will, Pen-ii, that I will. You have my word on it." He was smiling but he was also in absolute earnest.

As the hobbits moved on to say farewell to others, ending with Elrond and his sons whom they had got to know so well, Penny walked over to where Gandalf was talking quietly with Erestor and Glorfindel. She waited patiently until Gandalf glanced to one side and noticed her. He smiled. Erestor and Glorfindel slid away into the crowd as he turned to her.

"Ah, Pen-ii. No need for a farewell, I will be back soon enough."

"Oh?"

"Well, perhaps not for a month or two, it is true." He paused. "There are people I need to see, places to check on. It has been too long since I last walked the northern paths. Who can say what has occurred while tumultuous events took place in the south?"

The smile was soft but the eyes were knowing and not so much hard as brightly aware, in total contrast to his relaxed demeanour. Penny said nothing, though she wanted to. Gandalf sighed.

"Ah, Pen-ii."

He stepped towards her, extending one arm as he did so to take hold of her just above the elbow, gently but with a firm grip.

"Have I told you how proud I am of the strength you have shown? If not then forgive me." He looked at her. "I can guess at what you would discuss with me but not yet. We shall not speak of it yet. When next we meet, that will be the time."

And then he had turned away before Penny could find some adequate response (and what sort of response could she reasonably even begin to come up with in the face of that?), even as the hobbits were finally climbing into the saddles of their ponies, Shadowfax nodding his head as if eager to be off. Only a little while later, once he was astride the great while stallion and lifting his hand in farewell to all there, did she hear his voice in her head, and as she looked up at him in surprise she saw his eyes on her for a mere moment.

'_I have absolute faith in them, Pen-ii. They are a strong and noble race. Have they not already proved their mettle?_'

As she watched them ride away, she felt a weight in the pit of her stomach but tried hard to keep the image of Galadriel clear in her head, and even as she did so it was as if she could hear her voice clear as day beside her repeating the words she had said to her weeks before: "_Take comfort, Pen-ii, and let your heart be eased. Others have made the decision, not you_."

She still could not shake off the sense of guilt that dragged along behind her for the rest of the day.

The following evening, after supper, Elrond summoned her to his study. She was not surprised. She had been expecting it. He too had been not avoiding her exactly, but leaving her to her own devices somewhat of late, just as Gandalf had been doing. She did not think that it was wholly coincidental.

Just as she had suspected, when she knocked and was given permission to enter, there sat Glorfindel and Erestor on one side of the fire, Elladan, Elrohir and Lindir discussing some tome they had fished out of Elrond's bookcase, while Elrond himself was pouring out cups of spiced wine.

For a moment she hesitated, a wave of memory of earlier times almost a year before when she had had similar interviews in this room. Suddenly she felt a momentary twinge of loss for Halbarad… and then wished Halladan were there… and then wished she had not just wished that.

Dammit.

"Come in, Pen-ii, come in!" Erestor was indicating a chair opposite him.

"Yes, come inside and close the door," Lindir added. "You are letting in a draught."

"Never let it be said the corridors of Lord Elrond's halls be draughty," said Elrond, one eyebrow arched but a hint of amusement in his eye and a smile playing on his lips.

"As if you elves feel the cold anyway," Penny muttered at Lindir as she crossed past him to her seat. He grinned at her back and there were smiles round the room.

Once they were all settled, Elrond did his best to make Penny feel at ease. He said that he had already had some word as to the nature of what had happened in the north while they were gone, but that Gandalf himself had insisted she not be questioned until after he had left with the hobbits.

"I would trust you consider us all friends now, Pen-ii. There is no requirement upon you to speak, but if it will help you unburden yourself…" He paused. "I will be frank with you, Pen-ii. Galadriel had some foresight regarding Suza which she confided to us. I do not doubt she told you this when she spoke to you as we travelled. It would appear it is, in some way, connected to Saruman, or connected to his final undoing." He paused once more, watching her with a steady, though not unkindly, gaze. "Perhaps you could tell us what you know?"

And so she told them.

Very quietly and simply and, surprisingly, without any tears. Whether it was because she had already confessed it all before to Halladan, or whether it was the confidence that Galadriel had given her, Penny was not sure. Perhaps it was both. She did not go into too much detail, which helped, merely gave them a vague idea of what the hobbits would find, their rousing the Shire into rebellion and then the killing of Saruman.

She could see the raised eyebrows, could guess at the unspoken question as to why she had kept silent till now and so stumbled on into her confusion and distress in Gondor as to whether to speak, to act or not. All the while Elrond nodded slightly every now and then, occasionally exchanging a glance with Erestor or Lindir as if matters long suspected where now made clear. When she admitted she had told Aragorn enough that he had decided to send the Dunedain north, Elrond merely smiled as if he had known all along.

"And you told Halladan, I take it?"

She hated herself when she felt the flush on her face as she said she had and tried to ignore it and behave as if it was not there.

And still the unspoken question hung in the air. They just waited, letting her get to it in her own time, and eventually it came, the reason why she had felt things had to follow their own path as best she could fathom it: the extent of Saruman's treachery that would only be later proved and about which she could not reasonably ask people of their stature, justice and wisdom to simply take her word. She spoke of his long searching for The One, about what Aragorn and Gimli would discover in Orthanc itself – the proof that he had long ago found Isildur's remains though no trace of them would ever be found. She told them of his long jealousy of Gandalf, hesitating momentarily before Glorfindel reassured her that all in the room knew full well who and what both Gandalf and Saruman were in their true forms. Thus she explained that even before they set out from Valinor, Saruman had resented Gandalf's addition to the group though it seemed now that he was the only one who had remained true to their mission and indeed had succeeded.

"It was because Mithrandir loved Suza so that Saruman first took notice of it. He even set up a trade route for the pipeweed, for though he publicly berated Gandalf for smoking, in private he began to smoke himself. I think… I think Gandalf has long suspected him, long before he was captured by him and imprisoned. It is so long since I last read my books now, so my memory is hazy, but I remember a story of Gandalf, perhaps at a meeting of the White Council, blowing smoke rings seemingly in all innocence and Saruman becoming furious, understanding by it that Gandalf possibly already suspected him of searching for The One though at that time it was still thought irretrievably lost. It is his malice, his hatred of Mithrandir that even now means he has headed straight for Suza when he left us on the road north. It is because of that and that alone that he will do what he can to wreck the place."

Only then did she have to fight back the tears, swallowing hard and looking sideways momentarily.

"And yet through all this Saruman will be brought down at last and the kuduk will see Maura, Ban, Raz and Kali for the great and noble heroes that they are," Elrohir interjected gently. She nodded.

The details she had given of Saruman had been something of a revelation. His treachery was no surprise, but the extent of it, that it had been going on for far longer than anyone had suspected, was. Even Penny could feel the subtle change in the atmosphere.

Elrond, his face stony with anger, got to his feet and very calmly walked over to the door that led out onto the gardens, opened it and took a deep, calming breath as he stared out at the night sky.

It was perhaps only Penny who jumped when Elladan suddenly flung his cup hard against the flagstones, so hard that it bounced, glinting in the firelight. As it did so Penny could see it was now dented on one side. For a brief moment Penny could see his expression, orange by the fire's glow, and knew for the first time she was seeing an elf in something close to full battle fury, his eyes glaring, his mouth open slightly, top lip curling a little. It was still a beautiful face, but terrifying for all that, for the sheer rage and power evident within it. He gaze flicked in Penny's direction, ostensibly to exchange a glance with his brother who was sitting next to her, and he caught her eye. Immediately the expression softened, though the eyes were still angry.

"Forgive me if I startled you, Pen-ii."

As Elrohir bent to pick up the cup that had rolled towards him, the air was now pregnant with the unspoken discussion they would all have the moment she left.

Lindir got to his feet, muttering something about seeing what was happening in the Hall of Fire if all had been said that needed to be, and perhaps Pen-ii would like to accompany him. Penny, glad to leave, followed him to the door but then, having a sudden thought, she paused, turned towards Elrond and asked him what news there was of the north. He looked at her, the others in the room raising their eyebrows at her.

"I ask only because… well, as I say I spoke to Aragorn but only told him what will be said to the kuduk when they reach Batti's inn – that the Rangers have been missed. For years their work was little understood or appreciated, but when they went south…"

She had a sharp vision of Halladan in her head, on horseback, ruffians or worse roaring towards him, blades aloft, and suddenly his eyes glazing over, him going slack or stiff in the saddle just like that time in the camp.

As quickly as it came to her it was gone.

"How do things fare?" And there was a faint catch in her voice that they all heard. "For the Dunedain, I mean. What have they returned to find outside of the borders of Suza? I realise it is not my place to ask, perhaps, but… did many people come up the Greenway, or if not people then…?"

She left the question unfinished. They could sense the anxiety in her clear as daylight.

"What little I have learnt so far, Pen-ii," Elrond said quietly, "has not been as bad as it might have been."

What did THAT mean? It hardly seemed reassuring, though she held on to the thought that elves ever did speak in enigmas or riddles, often at the moments you most wanted them to be frank and to the point.

"The Dunedain are capable men, strong, battle-hardened, skilful, and by reputation alone they carve a path before them." Elladan looked at her with something close to sympathy in his eye. "Do not worry for Halladan." He smiled. "Or Arvain," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"It is not just that," Penny replied, her gaze dropping to the floor. There was a long pause. "If anything has happened… if… I know Lady Galadriel reassured me, and truly she did indeed put my heart at ease, especially regarding Suza, but…" She let out a deep, shaky breath and lifted her eyes to Elrond. "I could have told you. Even when last we were here you asked me what else I knew and I stayed silent. All that time I could have… And the Dunedain very nearly did not even return with us, or not all of them as happened in the end."

Suddenly she felt Lindir pull her into a hug.

"Hey, now. Did you not hear what Elladan just said? They did not all ride south, Pen-ii, and they are more than capable of looking after their own. It is true, perhaps, that things have been a little disrupted from how they were, but matters will soon be put aright. All will be as it should be."

"You are not responsible, Pen-ii," Elrond said from across the room. "You never were."

She looked at him, not wholly convinced but trying to believe him.

"Or certainly no more than anyone else in this room and others," Lindir added, to the accompaniment of nods from those still seated by the fire. Penny herself joined them, her head moving up and down jerkily and determinedly, as much to try and reassure herself.

"That is better," Lindir said kindly, grinning and gently propelling her towards the door. "Now then, let us see if we can persuade Bilbo to recite some more of this Gondolin poem of his."

There was a quiet groan from the direction of Glorfindel as Lindir shut the door behind him along with chuckles at Glorfindel's expense.

It was no surprise, perhaps, that the moment Penny spotted Mireth in the Hall of Fire but she dragged her off to tell her all about it as well.

"So that is what you meant when you said there was more to come?"

Penny, sitting opposite her at the window seat of Mireth's room, nodded.

"It has been so hard keeping it to myself, Mireth. So hard."

Mireth nodded. "Yes. Yes, it can be," she murmured.

Penny looked at her.

"You are not the only one to have ever carried foresight with them, Pen-ii. I will admit you have carried much and more than most, perhaps, but many of us have had inklings or visions or certainties about what will come to pass. Nor is it just us elves who have such a gift. Many amongst the Dunedain also."

Penny nodded. "Halbarad knew he would die in the south," she said quietly.

Mireth said nothing, just leaned towards her and took her hand, and together they looked out into the darkness of the night.

* * *

Author's notes:

'skint' – London (now widespread British) slang, meaning having no money. Not in the sense of being poor but in the sense of currently being without – you've spent your pay packet/your last fiver.

The reference to fireworks and bonfire in one of London's parks is because November 5th is, of course, 'Bonfire Night' here in the UK, and you will get most local councils providing some sort of firework and bonfire shindig round that time usually the nearest weekend to it, or on the weekends either side of it. Hence there being some sort of display somewhere on the night of the 7th for Penny and her mates to go to late in the evening.

I say Gandalf 'seemed' to be the only one who stayed true to the mission of the Istari since the fate of the blue wizards who went to the East is unknown. Certainly they seemed to have played no part in the fall of Sauron (which was the whole purpose of the Istari sailing from the West), but it may be they did good in the East. Or it may be they too fell to darkness and seeking power and dominion, just as Saruman did. Radagast, the old hippy, bless his heart, got entirely distracted by flora and fauna. But better that than evil rings of power.

'Batti' is Barliman Butterbur's first name in Westron. Aside from the hobbits it's the only other Westron name JRRT gave us: Batti Zilbarapha

As always: many, many thanks to all who continue to read, review and rec this fic. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. - hugs you all -


	57. Absence

**Chapter 57** – _ "Absence"_

Penny was not overly surprised when a week after the hobbits had left, there was no immediate sign of Halladan and Arvain. Plans had to be flexible given the nature of what the Dunedain did – it had been the same with Halbarad - and in a society where the most you could rely on was the equivalent of carrier pigeon or word of mouth, changes of plan were all but impossible to know about. However, the longer it went without their appearance, the more Penny found she could not help but become concerned, if not convinced, that just as she had always feared, things were not as easy outside of Elrond's realm as might have been hoped. It did say something, though, that when after another week had passed by and they had still not appeared, even Mireth commented on it if only to say, apropos of nothing as they sat by a fire sewing together, that they should be arriving any day now.

It was actually three days more before Penny, having just returned from a ride with Lindir one afternoon, overhead one of the ellon say to Lindir that Arvain had arrived some time before. Penny, who had just hefted the saddle off the horse she had ridden and was about to head off to put it away, stopped and looked over at the ellon in confusion.

"Arvain? Is Halladan not with him?"

He shrugged his shoulders. He had only seen Arvain, he said, but it was always possible Halladan had arrived with him. He had no idea.

Not allowing Penny any time to wonder or work herself up into a state of alarm, Lindir asked others to take care of the horses and dragged Penny inside to find him.

It had been long enough since his arrival that Arvain was already washed, dressed in clean clothes, shaved and firmly ensconced in front of a fire with a cup of wine when Penny and Lindir finally tracked him down to one of the small antechambers near the dining hall. As they walked through the door, he turned his head, a broad grin spreading over his face the moment he saw Penny and he was on his feet and pulling her into a bear hug almost before she could draw breath. When he finally let her go she could take stock of the fact that only Celebdor, Mireth and Elrohir were in the room with him and that Halladan was indeed conspicuous by his absence.

"Where is Halladan?"

Arvain instantly looked vaguely sheepish and awkward if not, frankly, embarrassed.

Oh, crap – that did not bode well.

"He, er… He is not with me, Pen-ii."

"Oh."

Penny really, really hoped she did not look as disappointed as she felt. She gave a sort of smile and a tentative series of nods as if to say 'fair enough.' It was not that she was not thrilled to see Arvain – she was – but…

"He is riding with Faelon."

Penny again nodded, still feeling a little shell-shocked, her mind whirring as to the reasons why this might be. She gratefully accepted the drink Elrohir was handing her and went to sit next to Celebdor.

"I thought you were riding together."

God, her voice sounded horribly matter-of-fact and normal.

"We were."

Arvain did not seem to want to be overly forthcoming as to the reasons for his brother's absence. He had gone back to his seat and was busily rolling his cup in one hand between thumb and fingers, staring into its contents.

"Pen-ii, in the wilds many things can happen," Elrohir interjected. "Both myself and my brother have often ridden with the Dunedain over the years, and depending on what you encounter or if a message is needed elsewhere, you cannot always be certain where you will ride or with whom, nor indeed how long your journeys will take you."

"Yes, of course. I realise that, Elrohir." Penny turned to Arvain. "Forgive me. It is only that… well…" She trailed off.

"I understand, Pen-ii." Arvain replied. "You had expected us both and we, well, I had sent word that we both would come as soon as we might."

Penny was not the only one to note the correction and the choice of wording. So that was how it was, was it? She looked him straight in the eye.

"What has happened?"

"Nothing has happened," Arvain replied, suddenly breaking eye contact as he got out of his seat to get a refill.

The carafe of wine was on a side table running the length of the wall opposite Penny, meaning he was turned away from her and she could not see the expression on his face. He cleared his throat and carried on talking with his back to her.

"Why would something have happened? We met Faelon and Halladan decided to ride with him for a time. You know how Halladan can be, with his sense of duty running strong in his veins. He felt it was not the appropriate time to leave his work, that there was more that had to be done that would take him away from Imladris rather than near to it, and when we met up with Faelon, it seemed to him to be…" He was searching for the right wording.

"A higher priority?"

Penny was again amazed by how level her voice sounded compared to the tinge of bitterness she felt. And she hated herself for it, because she knew it was wholly unreasonable and grossly unfair, indeed ran entirely contrary to the promise she had made to herself.

Arvain had glanced over his shoulder at her as she had finished his sentence for him, though so quickly he could barely have seen her properly; and now, when he spoke, his tone was breezy, cheery, and just over the top enough that Penny could tell he was finding excuses for Halladan.

"Well, in truth, Pen-ii, I think he was relishing Rangering once more, to be back in the home country… You know how it is."

"Of course."

She smiled, she hoped sincerely, because as much as anything she wanted Arvain to know that he should not feel like he was at fault in being 'the bearer of bad news' to some extent. However disappointed she might feel, it would do no good at all to show it, though she little realised that precisely by being all smiles and understanding politeness, those round her could see she was a little hurt by Halladan's not coming.

"So," Arvain barrelled on with his false cheeriness, "rather than the three of us riding together in a great gaggle, I said I would take the opportunity to come and to see how you were faring on behalf of us both." He turned to her now at last with his ready smile. "And I am pleased to find you looking so well, Pen-ii."

"She has been busy these past few weeks," Celebdor chipped in. "You should see her, Arvain. A veritable little apprentice in nearly every field." He winked at Penny as he spoke.

"Do not tease her, Celebdor," Mireth said, laughing. "She is doing very well, Arvain. Everyone says so."

Lindir and Elrohir were nodding their agreement.

'Good grief,' Penny thought, 'It's like school reports or parent-teacher evenings all over again.'

"What am I? Thirteen?"

They blinked at her, surprised and amused, laughing.

"Well, honestly! I think I am quite old enough that I can give Arvain an account of myself _by_ myself, do you not think? And without the rest of you sounding like concerned relatives discussing their offspring."

The laughter was louder then, but it did not deter them. Arvain was given chapter and verse on every one of Penny's exploits, challenges and minor triumphs (very minor in most cases, but one step at a time was better than none at all, as Mireth kept telling her). Arvain beamed at her throughout and drank her health several times while Penny, as pleased as she was, still felt hugely embarrassed. Through it all, though, she mulled over what it was that Arvain was very obviously not telling her.

Why had Halladan not come? Were things still awkward between them, in spite of the slight thawing that had happened before he had left? Was this part of his distancing himself from her quite deliberately? Or was she over-thinking this? Had Halladan in fact had an episode or fallen ill and Arvain was trying not to worry her?

The bell for the evening meal sounded, and as they wandered down the corridors to the dining hall, Penny hung back and tugged on Arvain's tunic. He looked round at her.

"Tell me honestly, Arvain, how is he? It is not that he has taken ill suddenly? You would tell me, would you not?"

He looked down at her, assessing the hint of concern in her eyes.

"He is quite well, Pen-ii, I promise you."

She could see he was telling her the truth, but there was little opportunity to talk further as other elves on their way to eat spotted him and came over to give their greetings. Even that night he resolutely stayed in the Hall of Fire, and although Penny sat with him and they had moments when they could talk quietly together, there were still many who joined them, who asked after Halladan or other Dunedain, and of course wanted to pay their condolences. It put paid to any opportunity for Penny to talk privately. Every time Penny suggested they go for a walk outside Arvain agreed but then never seemed to find the opportunity – there was always another conversation to be had.

Just about the only thing she managed to glean from some of his comments was that he was not best pleased with Halladan, though whether that was because he had refused to come to Imladris or for some other reason she could not fathom. Had they argued? Was that why Halladan had decided to ride with Faelon and thus why he had not come to Imladris with his brother? Or, if there had been an argument, had it been caused by Halladan's refusal to come? Or was it all as Arvain had explained and she was reading too much into things? Arvain was more interested in drinking deep and laughing at Lindir's jokes than being open, and Penny knew better than to push it.

There were certainly glimpses of something more serious underneath Arvain's demeanour, however, aside from his discomfort over Halladan's absence.

At one point, when others had moved away and for a few minutes it was just Arvain, Penny and Lindir sitting alone, Lindir asked Arvain if he and Halladan had been to visit Hirvell's betrothed (or the woman he would have been betrothed to by now had he survived the War). Arvain's face clouded and he looked down into his tankard as he nodded.

"Faelon had already… some days before. I am glad we were not the ones to… for Halladan's sake. That said, I think she still needed to hear it from us. Indeed her father said as much to us privately as we were leaving. He was glad that we had come to see her." There was a long pause. "She is a strong woman. She could see how painful it was for Halladan to be there. I think Faelon might have explained something of what… She seemed more concerned for our loss than her own." There was another long pause before he nodded and lifted his head slightly, taking a deep breath and trying to pull himself out of his reminiscences. "But we were not the only ones to return with such news. More than one family amongst the Dunedain grieves anew, even if the dead are long buried."

Penny could not even begin to imagine what that must have been like for them both, to have to swallow down their own grief and pain and screw themselves up to the job of telling Hirvell's love that she would never see him again. Nor what it must have been like for Faelon to break the news to her. God, it did not bear thinking about.

For once Penny was glad of the distraction as another group of elves joined them and lifted Arvain back to high spirits once more.

Nor was that the only note of seriousness during the evening. When Penny, feeling like she would drop where she sat if she did not head off to bed, declared it a night, Arvain said he would see her at breakfast 'before heading off.' Penny blinked at him.

"You are leaving tomorrow? So soon?"

"Yes, Pen-ii. I only came to see how you were. While I am here I can restock my supplies, rest my horse a little and let Lord Elrond know my news, but in truth I am only here to see you well and settled." He smiled at her, but caught her look. "There is work to be done, Pen-ii."

She nodded, wanting to ask more but realising it was too crowded, that too many elvish ears were flapping nearby. Arvain, for once acquiescing to her clear need to speak privately, walked with her to the doorway and into the hallway a little.

"It is as you said, Pen-ii," he said quietly as they stood together in the shadows for a moment. "During our time away strangers have arrived in the north. Strangers who are… unwelcome, or at best do not know how to behave."

"How bad is it?"

There was a slight pause before Arvain spoke. "Not as bad as it might be."

Something cold gripped Penny deep within her. He was using the same terms as Elrond had done, and that did nothing to ease her heart.

"What has happened, Arvain? Is it as terrible as I feared it might be?"

"I do not know what your fears were, Pen-ii, but never forget we left behind us good men who have done sterling work, and now the rest of us have returned what remains to be done will be done swiftly. Already it has begun, indeed much has been done. It does mean, however, that I cannot afford to stay longer than I have done. You understand?"

She nodded. She remembered having similar conversations – well, perhaps not quite as fluent or as fluid – with his father before him. She knew the score.

"It is why Halladan said he felt there was work to be done, why he could ill afford to ride here when he could and should be out there still."

In the darkness it was impossible for her to read his face, to see what his assessment was of his brother's excuse or its veracity, but she got the distinct feeling that he did not approve nor agree with Halladan. She opened her mouth to ask him about it directly, but before she could speak he was being called for from the Hall of Fire, had bade her goodnight and was gone.

Penny did not sleep too well that night.

In the morning there was barely time enough after breakfast for him to saddle his horse before he was riding away, having reassured her that all was well between him and Halladan (though he did not sound overly convincing, it had to be said), and that he would pass on her message to him that she wished him well and hoped to see him soon. The hug he gave her was long and when at last she could pull away a little she found he was looking at her intently, an apologetic, sincere look on his face.

"I am sorry he was not with me this time, Pen-ii. But he will come soon. I promise you. Even if I have to drag him here myself tied to a rope behind my horse."

She laughed then, though it quickly faded.

"Tell him… Tell him I understand."

Because she did. Even if Arvain did not, or if he did, did not approve, Penny understood it completely. It saddened her, but she had wondered if it would happen.

She watched as Arvain headed off down the path to the main gate.

"Oh, and when next I visit," he said, turning in his saddle to her, "I will have to bring you something for your birthday."

"My birth—?! Who told you?!"

"Ah, a little bird, Pen-ii. A little bird."

And with that wide, cheeky grin of his and a wave of his hand he urged his horse into a canter and was gone.

His visit had pleased Penny enormously but it had also unsettled her quite considerably, and not just because of Halladan's not being with him. As the days and weeks progressed every now and then a Dunadan would appear, albeit infrequently, but never would they stay more than a day at most. It reminded Penny very much of that period prior to the Dunedain riding south when Dunedain were coming and going but never staying for long because there had been too much to do on their home turf. So it seemed it was the case once more. She did try asking once or twice what news there was but the answer was always the same: ruffians and half-orcs had come north and had caused a bit of trouble, but it was being dealt with and was nothing for Penny to worry about. She stopped asking after a while though she still felt sick to her stomach with guilt.

Mireth did her best to reassure her. She could not be held responsible for foresight, especially not when it had been so vague and general. Indeed, what could she have reasonably done to prevent it? The Dunedain would still have ridden south – Aragorn needed them and it could easily be argued that had they not the War would have been lost or certainly teetered on the brink, since it was they and they alone that had managed to secure the boats so Aragorn could arrive just when needed on the Pelennor. Even if Penny had told Aragorn the moment she had arrived in Minas Tirith and the Dunedain sent north straight away, they would have not arrived more than two months earlier at most, possibly less; while some things might have been prevented, not all of them would have been.

Penny knew all this. She knew she knew it. But it was the not knowing the worst of whatever was happening or had happened out there that was hard to deal with for some reason. Halladan would be honest with her, she knew that. Ever blunt and to the point, he would not have wavered and avoided the issue if she asked him directly.

And yet there was still no sign of him as the weeks went by.

A few days before her birthday, Bregion arrived. He was heading south to bring news to Aragorn of how the Dunedain had fared and was calling on Elrond to see what other messages or letters he might wish to send to his daughter or son-in-law. As regards Penny, however, he brought word from both Arvain and Halladan that they wished her well.

"Arvain might not be able to come for another month or more, but if he can be here sooner he will be."

"And Halladan?"

"He did not say. Has he not already been to see you? I thought he had."

Once more Penny hoped the disappointment she felt did not show, but perhaps Bregion still read something of it in her eye.

"He and Faelon are riding hard, Pen-ii, going here, there and everywhere. That and I know they spent a little time with Morfinniel and the family." He paused and Penny tried not to feel too resentful that Faelon's family should get some of the pleasure of Halladan's company whereas she, his ward, had not. "It is as well to check on the families and homesteads when we can," he continued. "The War is won, but… Ah, well, I am sure you have had some word of it here. He will be here soon enough, Pen-ii, you need not worry."

"I do not suppose… Did he or Arvain mention why they were not riding together any more? Arvain seemed a little out of sorts with Halladan when he came. I was concerned they might have argued."

Bregion paused mid-drink, his tankard frozen at his lips momentarily. He eyed her with his one good eye as he swallowed slowly. If he seemed a little surprised by Penny's perceptiveness he did not show it. He lowered his tankard.

"Well, there might have been something of that nature. Brothers will argue at times. It is well known."

"Do you know—?"

"Ah, now, Pen-ii, that is their private business."

And that was all she could get out of him. Apparently Bregion did not hold with gossip.

He was gone within two days, though, riding south and with him he took Penny's first letter to Meresel, as she had promised her, recounting all the things she was busily learning, her impressions of the journey north and Theoden's funeral. She also sent her a little jug she had decorated, placing it in a small box filled with sawdust, once Bregion had okayed the box as small enough to fit into his pack without causing him undue hindrance.

Around the time of Bregion's visit, by Erestor's calculations, was also the time that the hobbits should have reached the Shire and was, indeed, the date of the Battle of the Bywater, and from that time on the news brought by visiting Dunedain slowly improved – it was as if a shadow had lifted from the northlands at last. Prior to it many of the ruffians and strangers had gravitated towards The Shire with the promise of an easy life and a leader who would look after their needs, and so even that had lessened the Dunedain's workload a little.

Eventually the day came that was, by the elvish calendar, the equivalent of the seventh of November. Penny awoke that morning with little else in her head except that it was her turn to milk the goats and she had better step to it or else being late; indeed she had forgotten entirely what day it was until she was delivering the milk to Naurdir ready for breakfast and he stayed her.

"I have something for you."

"Eh?"

She watched in confusion as he then meandered past the various elves already working on the morning's bread and preparing platters of fruit till he reached the shelves where he kept spices and herbs. On the third shelf up, squashed between a pot of dried marjoram and a jar of a powdered root Penny could never remember the name of but was particularly good grated into venison stew, was a small book. Naurdir fetched it down and came back to Penny with it.

"Here you are."

She blinked at him and then looked at the small leather-bound tome: 'Traditional Recipes of the North, both Dunedain and Elvish, collected by Naurdir of Imladris.' Her mouth formed a small 'o' but no sounds came out. When she looked up at him, her eyes were like saucers. He laughed.

"For your birthday, Pen-ii. May Elbereth shine on you this coming year and make it full of happiness."

"Thank you. No, truly, I mean it. Thank you!"

The rest of the day simply got better from there on in.

No one had breathed a word to Penny after Erestor had spoken one by one to those closest to her, but instead over the weeks they had all privately found, or had made, a little something for her. Each of them gave her their presents throughout the day, as they saw her or managed to catch her. No fuss was made, no great fanfare, but instead the day was filled with little quiet moments of friendship and gift-giving that left Penny beaming and overwhelmed at their generosity and thoughtfulness.

Soon after breakfast Erestor gave her a history of the Dunedain and a Westron-Sindarin grammar ("which you will need once you leave here, Pen-ii, trust me"), while Mireth presented her with a shawl made from a multidyed thread of bright blues, greens and deep reds. The yarn and knit was so fine that it seemed to shimmer in starlight, and yet it was also incredibly warm.

A little later Penny found that Celebdor had got together a small basket of tubs and leather bags of seeds – a large variety of herbs and vegetables – for her since, as he said, he wanted to give her something that would be of practical use to her in her new life but also, if she was careful about collecting seeds each year, would actually last for years and years to come.

Then, when she was on her way in from the gardens for lunch, Elladan and Elrohir waylaid her briefly. Elladan gave her an undecorated wooden box (though the grain had been oiled and polished so that the wood itself - walnut – nearly glowed with a deep, rich colour and pattern). Inside it were a new quill with a silver nib and two kinds of ink (black and brown). He also handed her two small, leather-bound books with blank pages, and all this because "Erestor tells me you are busily writing notes and need such things – I hope you will find them useful." Elrohir's gift was a small, filigree golden cloak clasp or brooch fashioned into the shape of tiny leaves and tendrils with a cluster of pearls at its centre to form a flower.

Before she headed off to the stables after lunch, Glorfindel caught hold of her to return the knife she had carried in her pack all the way to Gondor and back. She had, of course, given it back to him when they had arrived, but now, he said, it was hers to keep ("because it is always good to carry such a thing and elvish blades are the best to be had"). It was an item of beauty in its own right – the scabbard alone was finely worked leather with intricately criss-crossing patterns, coloured and gilded - but it gave Penny the willies still to be in possession of such a thing. She knew that elvish blades dulled only very, very slowly, however, and it would be of inestimable use to her, even if only for practical purposes such as butchering a carcass.

Once at the stables, Lindir produced a beautiful ebony jewellery box inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ivory, the design one of lilies and honeysuckle intertwined and with tiny opals at the centre of each flower.

"No, really, it is nothing, Pen-ii. They are ten-a-penny in the likes of Lothlorien and Eryn Lasgalen, I assure you, but I am glad you like it."

That was the thing with Lindir – he could always make her laugh.

There was a 'party' of sorts as well - a high tea held in one the antechambers, just as they had done for Bilbo some weeks before. Naurdir had baked cakes and there was so much food that the company missed the hobbits that had left, though Bilbo valiantly did what he could in their stead. It was there, too, that Bilbo gave her his present. He had asked one of the carpenters to make a set of draughts for her, as well as a little wooden board that folded in half on which the checker-board pattern had been painted with a dark wood stain to mark out the black squares (because, he said, she needed to practice).

Then an hour or two later, a little before the evening meal, Elrond asked her to accompany him to his study so she could receive his present to her: a small hair ornament that had a sort of clasp at the back, made of silver and in the shape of a long oval made up of filigree 'tendrils' and tiny green semi-precious stones set into it in clusters to form 'leaves' every now and then. It was of course rather simple compared to many things that elves wore even on a daily basis but a beautiful (and, to Penny, a rich) gift nonetheless.

And then finally the day was topped off after dinner by Penny being led by Mireth to the Hall of Fire where, amongst the usual recitations, music and song, there was a moment for her and her alone.

Lindir gave her his second gift of the day when he stood and played on an elvish version of a lute a composition of his own making in which Penny, awestruck and on the verge of tears, heard snatches of tune after tune that she recognised. She had never managed to give him anything more than a few bars or at most a minute of any kind of classical tune, and yet here, had she known their names, was a tune by Mozart, there a moment of Vivaldi, then Grieg, followed by Handel, Bach, and many more. And in amongst such greats were snippets of Simon and Garfunkel, Sting or Abba, so she was laughing at the incongruous nature of the mix (something clearly Lindir had intended as he grinned every time she laughed), even as she was brought to tears by the sheer beauty of it, the pure elvishness of the whole, the way that music wrought and played only by an elf could move you, hold you, enter your very being and leave you breathless. As his fingers moved, so it was as if he wove a spell that lifted her and left her filled with memories so tinged with the gold of an elf's touch that she could barely express her gratitude to him once he was done. She hugged him and hugged him, and when at last she pulled away and he could look down at her he saw her cheeks wet with tears though she was smiling. He nodded, smiled and winked, and she hugged him all over again.

From that time or a little before it, there was a gradual change in the air. When Bregion had come he had stayed for two days. The next Dunadan stayed for three near enough (arriving late in the evening and leaving after breakfast three days later). These were signs that things were slowly improving 'out there.' Even so, there was still no word from or sign of Halladan.

Not only that but winter was approaching. The trees that filled much of the vale of Imladris were slowly losing their orange, red and yellow clothes: the leaves were falling and the weather changing. As the days passed, Mireth's gift of a shawl was much appreciated by Pen-ii, as were the two new winter dresses. The valley was sheltered, but even so, being this close to the mountains they got a lot of rain at this time of year, and even if they missed much of the worst of the winds beginning to come from the north, you could still feel a chill in the air on some nights that made even the elves glad to see a fire's hearth.

The nights were drawing in earlier and earlier, meaning more and more time was spent indoors from late afternoon onwards. Once or twice when she knew she had a few hours till supper and Penny had decided to while away some time practicing her artistry (Erestor had set out a still life in a small room near his study for her – a bowl of fruit, a collection of books, one open with a bookmark draped over the page, a golden cup set with jewels and a mithril water jug covered in pastoral scenes), she found herself trying to draw memories from her past. It had started as a doodle of a house, childlike in its design – a mere square with a triangle as a roof – and then she had moved sideways and tried to draw her mother's house in cartoon form. Then before she knew it she had filled the wooden board with bicycles and buses, ice-cream cones and televisions, an old-fashioned telephone with a turn-dial, a pair of high-heels, a cigarette, the shape of her favourite pair of earrings… On and on it went until she had run out of space and then she sat back and stared at the whole, at this black and brown cartoon miasma of all she had lost and would very possibly never see again. She felt numb. It seemed so weirdly unreal.

A few days later she tried drawing her mother's face and was very upset to find she could not. The more she tried, the more it looked nothing like her and the more she tried to then think about specific aspects of her features, the better to represent them in charcoal, the more the image shifted and faded in her mind until she was not wholly sure she could even remember what her mother looked like properly. It was distressing enough that she never tried it again, nor anyone else she had known who had been close to her.

It was almost three weeks after her birthday when Penny, making drills and doing some late planting of seeds for early spring vegetables, heard Celebdor's voice being called and the laughter in Celebdor's reply along with the sound of hands slapping on backs. She looked up and across to the far side of the garden nearest the halls to see a Dunadan clasping Celebdor by the arm, a broad grin across his face. It took a moment for her to realise it was Faelon given how mud-splattered and dishevelled he looked, let alone the several weeks' growth of beard on his chin and cheeks.

Even as she registered this fact, Celebdor turned in response to something Faelon had asked him and gestured directly to her – clearly Faelon had asked where she was – and Faelon, in glancing up towards her had moved to his right a little. Only now could she see that behind him on the narrow garden path stood Halladan.

He saw her the same moment she saw him and for a moment all thoughts of 'about bloody time' fled in an instant. There was that soft, steady smile and, though he had clearly been shaving more frequently than Faelon, he looked easily as filthy and mud-covered. She was smiling in return, but hesitantly, barely able to believe he was actually here at last, out of the blue, with no warning.

She got to her feet, wiping her hands on her gardening apron, and then very deliberately began tidying away her tools into the little trug she had with her. Only then, carrying her trug and a basket of some of the last of the root vegetables that she had dug up earlier, did she calmly make her way over to them all.

"Pen-ii! Ah, it is good to see you!"

"And you, Faleon." She was grinning at him.

"Let me take those from you," Celebdor said, reaching for the trug.

"No, no… oh, well, if you are sure. I have finished in that small section, Celebdor, but have not had time to prune the—"

Celebdor waved a hand at her. "Oh, do not worry, Pen-ii. That can wait."

Faelon was chuckling. "I see Morfinniel will have ample help with her garden next year, yes?" He grinned. "Come here!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling her into a hug and kissing her on the cheek.

"Argh!"

"What, am I too muddy for you?" He laughed. "Or is it the bristles on my chin? My daughters always chide me for coming home in this state."

"And well they might, Faelon! I see Halladan has managed to avoid growing such a great bush on his face."

"I _like_ my beard!" Faelon sounded jokingly offended.

Penny and Halladan looked at each other, smiles on their faces but at the same time both seeming a little unsure and uncertain.

"Well met, Halladan. It is good to see you," Penny said at last.

Halladan nodded. "Well met, Pen-ii. I am glad to see you so well."

"Are you not about to berate him for taking so long to get here? I would if I were you, Pen-ii."

Penny noted the flash of irritation in Halladan's eye as Faelon spoke.

"No, no, not in the least. I know he has been busy. Arvain explained matters."

Halladan did have the decency to seem vaguely uncomfortable.

"Ah, you are a good woman, Pen-ii," said Faelon gently, hugging her round her shoulders.

"I have to get these to Naurdir," Penny said, gesturing with the basket of vegetables.

"Then we shall accompany you," Faelon replied. "We came straight from the stables and have yet to see Elrond, and then we need to wash and change."

They entered the building via the kitchens, Naurdir taking the vegetables from Penny and greeting the two men. He immediately insisted that Penny was off cooking duty that night. Penny protested, not wholly convincingly, that she had wanted to show off some of the recipes that she had learnt, but Naurdir retorted it was only fair to let Faelon and Halladan get at least one good night's rest before upsetting their stomachs to that extent.

"I beg your pardon?!"

Naurdir laughed loudly.

"I am joking, Pen-ii! In truth, Halladan, you should be proud of your ward. She is learning fast in the kitchens."

Halladan, who had remained fairly quiet so far, nodded and smiled.

"Yes, Arvain told me."

As they made their way out of the kitchens and into the main corridor, Penny turned to Halladan.

"So you have met Arvain then? Have you two sorted out whatever it was you had argued about?"

Halladan looked at her in surprise and Faelon chuckled low.

"Ah, women. You can never get much past them, Halladan. Let that be a lesson to you. Yes, Pen-ii, the brothers are reunited and on talking terms once more. Though…" He sighed heavily. "Well, that is not to say that Arvain is not riding the northways in a fury."

Penny's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hisaeleth's hand is being sought once again," Halladan explained. "And not by Arvain."

"Yes, indeed. Though neither I nor Morfinniel have been spoken to as yet, so it is not as far along as perhaps Halladan's words imply. A certain young Dunadan who shall remain nameless – not that I think you know him, Pen-ii – has been to see her more than might be usual, bringing her flowers on the last occasion apparently."

From his tone, Penny was not sure Faelon wholly approved. She glanced at him, but already the group had been spotted and several elves were coming over to greet the two Dunedain. Penny murmured something about getting the hot water for baths seen to and turned to leave but felt a pull on her arm and looked back to find it was Halladan.

"Really, Pen-ii," he said, smiling, "there is no need."

"And why not? I did the same for your father in his time, why not for you? By the time you are finished with Elrond, everything will be prepared. Where are you housed?"

"The eastern wing most likely. Elrond usually keeps a set of rooms on the first floor ready for any Dunadan who is passing by to use."

She nodded, smiling and matter-of-fact. "I will get things ready."

Then she hurried off before he could stop her, faintly aware that he was possibly watching her go.

It turned out the two men were indeed in rooms on the first floor of the eastern wing, one opposite the other halfway down the corridor. The last of the hot water had just been brought up as Penny and another ellith arrived with towels, soap, shampoo and a razor each. Penny was not wholly sure whose room was whose, but since she was on the left hand side of the corridor she made for the room on that side, the ellith taking the one on the right. As she came to the door, however, she could see Halladan bending over his pack which was propped up against the wall next to the fireplace. She knocked on the open door. He looked round and smiled.

"Just bringing you some towels and… things."

"Thank you, Pen-ii. That is very kind of you."

He came to take them from her.

"You are welcome."

She watched as he turned and placed the items on top of the chest of drawers beside the door. Suddenly she felt awkward. She had known it would be perhaps be a little difficult due to how things stood when last they had seen each other, but his prolonged absence had, if anything, made things seem even more strained between them.

Best to leave him to it.

She turned to go, muttering a goodbye but then he said her name. She turned back to find he looked strangely uncomfortable.

"I… I should apologise for not having come to Imladris sooner."

"There is no need to apologise. As I said to you, Arvain explained—"

"Oh, I can imagine what Arvain had to say about the matter!"

"Actually, Halladan, he defended you gallantly. It was clear he did not agree with you, perhaps, but he covered it very well and simply repeated, I suspect, the same reasons you had given to him."

Something within her softened. She really wanted to let him know it was okay, that if, as she suspected, he had deliberately stayed away, he had no need to avoid her, that she understood it could never be and that she had made her own separate decision on that score. To make a fuss about his long absence would not only give entirely the wrong impression in that regard (however accurate a representation it might be of the genuine feelings she had for him and the fact that she had missed him terribly), but would also serve only to push him further away and make sure it was another two months if not more till she saw him next.

"I understand, Halladan. Truly I do."

But perhaps it was also better to accept and reaffirm the reasons that had been given, to acquiesce to the 'story' that Halladan had constructed if that was indeed what it was.

"You have been busy. There has been much to do. Arvain… Arvain spoke a little of it, when I asked him, but he was here for so short a time and there was little opportunity…" She looked down. "In truth, I am glad that now you have come there is someone at last I can trust will be absolutely honest with me and not try to shield me from the truth of it."

He had looked uncomfortable before but he looked even more so now.

"Pen-ii," he said gently, "I am not sure that…"

"No, Halladan. I want to know. I think I need to."

Suddenly there was a voice behind them.

"Ah, Pen-ii. Just checking all is as it should be? Thank you."

"Oh, I did nothing," she said, turning to Faelon with a smile. "You know how things are here – everyone helps with such things."

He nodded. "Yes, indeed."

"Anyway," she said, stepping out into the corridor, "I will leave you to it. And see you at the evening meal, no doubt."

"Oh. Not before?"

Something on Halladan's face seemed to suggest that the words had fallen out of his mouth before he had even known he was thinking them. Faelon grinned at him, but neither Penny nor Halladan noticed.

"I have a hunting tunic of Elrohir's that needs repairing," Penny explained. "He was asking me this morning if I had finished it and I have not even started it yet! I cannot leave it any longer." She turned and headed off down the corridor. "And do not forget to wash behind your ears," she called back at them, and grinned as she heard their quiet laughter.

That evening it seemed clear that all was not quite as it might be with Halladan. The impression that Penny had had earlier – that things were awkward between them – was all but confirmed. He was almost as formal and standoffish with her as he had been for those horrendous couple of days prior to his leaving the company on the journey north – barely saying a word to her all evening and hardly contributing anything to the conversation around him, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Nevertheless, there were moments when he 'came to', as it were, such as when Glorfindel noted that Faelon had not made good use of the razor put out for him and Faelon, grinning and stroking his beard, declared he had left it quite deliberately to upset Penny given she had taken such objection to it earlier.

"I am not in the least upset," Penny retorted, even as Halladan had raised his head and chuckled loudly. "Nor do I object to it. If Morfinniel is quite happy to have you tramping around like that, who am I to say anything?"

"Morfinniel quite likes it actually," Faelon mused. "Not all the time, admittedly, but now and then…" He drifted off into silence, a happy smile just about visible through the dark curls now that he had at least trimmed his moustache a little.

"Perhaps I should grow a beard," Halladan murmured, rubbing his chin. He caught sight of Penny's raised eyebrow and raised his own in return in an attempt to look entirely innocent. "Might even suggest it to Arvain and Tadion. What do you think, Faelon?"

"Superb idea, Halladan."

Penny just rolled her eyes at the pair of them and they laughed out loud.

These moments of genuine warmth, when he seemed relaxed and at ease, glad to be in her company once more, were rare indeed that first evening and the next day, but they occurred all the same. He was eager to hear of all that she was learning and had managed during his time away, claimed her stewed rabbit with mushrooms was nearly as good as Morfinniel's (which Faelon was gracious enough to readily agree to even though Penny sincerely doubted the truth of it), and there were odd occasions, even when he was quiet by the fire later that afternoon, when Penny looked up to find he was watching her with an intensity that even she could sense though his eyes were hidden in shadow. At such moments he would always look away, or cough and shift, or find his pipe had gone out and needed relighting or refilling.

After what Mireth had told her and insisted upon several times – that it had seemed clear to her and others that he had had feelings for her just as she had had for him – Penny read into all this something close to the truth of it: that he was struggling between those feelings and his sense of duty, not wanting to fan the flames either in himself nor have them reciprocated. For as much as she was glad that, at times, it was just as it had always been between them, part of her worried that there seemed no way, delicately, to be able to let him know he had no need to worry on her account. Instead she indirectly did all that she could to seem at ease, unperturbed, as if he had not stayed away for months, as if he was not being unsociable at times, and certainly not as if she was finding it quite difficult to be in his company once more without wishing it could not be otherwise between them (when she had spent so many weeks resolutely getting it clear in her head why she would never marry Halladan or anyone else).

Certainly by the afternoon of the second day it did seem to be working a little in that he already seemed more at ease than not whenever they were together, though still quiet and reserved. He joined her and Bilbo for tea that afternoon, and groaned loudly when Penny had told him of Bilbo's earliest memory of him.

"Now, now, Pen-ii. He was but a lad and hugely embarrassed at the time, I remember," Bilbo gently scolded, before taking her last draught and shaking his head at her. "Let him be."

Lindir laughed. "Ah, but Bilba, where would be the fun in that?"

"Hmph. For an ellon your age, Lindir, you can be remarkably juvenile at times. I have always said so."

Lindir tried to look outraged but failed utterly as he laughed nearly as loudly as Penny and Halladan. Erestor merely nodded.

"So you have, Bilba, and quite right too."

Lindir raised an amused eyebrow at his old friend.

"Et tu, Brute," Penny muttered, grinning, as she helped Bilbo put the draughts away. Halladan and Lindir looked at her quizzically.

"Jii-oo-las Say-ee-sa, yes?"

"Julius Caesar, Erestor. And yes." Penny looked at Halladan and Lindir and flapped a hand at them. "Oh, an old story from long ago. He was a big leader and was murdered by lots of people at once including an old friend, Brutus, who stabbed him along with everyone else. 'Et tu, Brute' in his language meant 'And you too, Brutus?'"

"Ah. I understand. Yes, most apt," Lindir replied, giving Erestor his best mock arch look.

Erestor snorted in amusement, and then stood up with a sigh and said he must be off.

"Are you going to see Elrond by any chance?" Bilbo was at his side in an instant. "I want to have one or two words with him about a new piece of poetry I am working on…"

Their voices disappeared down the corridor together, even as Lindir said that he too needed to head off and he would see them at supper, leaving Halladan and Penny alone in the room, silent and still in front of the crackling fire, the tray of plates, cups, teapot and milk jug standing on a table to one side.

After a few minutes, Halladan roused himself from his reverie, saying that they should take the tea things back to the kitchens, but he seemed in no hurry to move just yet. There was again a silence of a minute or two before Penny spoke at last.

"Halladan? What is it like out there? I realise you might not want to tell me, but I think I need to know. I want to know. I… I keep imagining all sorts of things and to not know seems worse than whatever you might tell me."

"Pen-ii…" Halladan's tone was serious. "Please do not ask such a thing of me."

"Halladan, even a response such as that does nothing to reassure me. Both Elrond and Arvain said matters were 'not as bad as it might be,' whatever that is meant to mean, and on both occasions it upset me greatly. My fears are terrible and my hopes were that nothing serious had happened, and yet clearly my hopes have not been realised and all I have left are my fears." She looked him straight in the eye, pleading. "Please, Halladan. I trust you and I know you will not avoid the truth. Tell me."

Halladan held her eye for a moment or two before looking away with a sigh. Then he nodded.

"Very well. Though I would not for all of Arda have you know the full extent of it."

"Is it not enough that it has kept the Dunedain so busy all this time, busy enough that even Arvain stayed but one night? I told you myself something of what I knew Batti would tell the kuduk and Gandalf when they met him once more. The people were said to be frightened, missing the Dunedain. Dark things lurked in the shadows and the people barred their village gates at night. That in itself says much."

"Yes, it does. It is as you describe it, Pen-ii, or it has been. It has been improving slowly, though it will take more time yet. There is a large area to patrol and we are limited in our numbers. Thankfully word of our return to the north spread quickly and over time they are moving north and east into the mountains, though one or two groups have formed small settlements in the far north of the land beyond the marshes."

"Oh?"

"Lawless places, Pen-ii. Not places anyone in their right mind would wish to live."

"How have the Dunedain fared while you have been gone?"

"Well enough. We had good strong men left behind us. It is why they left the likes of Batti undefended for so long, since they had to defend their own. At first there were only random, occasional encounters with these strangers and half-orcs in the wilds. Travelling individuals at first, and for the most part they stayed away from habitations, lived rough and in the wild, though indulging in occasional thievery to feed themselves. It was as their numbers grew that they became bolder, more daring." He paused, perhaps hoping he would not have to continue. "What would you have me tell you, Pen-ii?"

He had looked up to see she was waiting patiently for him to continue, bracing herself for whatever he might have to say and could see he had little choice but carry on, and so he told her everything. How, as more and more strangers arrived, they began to gravitate towards the villages such as Bree and Staddle. They were surly, unpleasant and when they ran out of the little coin they had, took things by theft, threat or violence. At the inns they would pick fights, get drunk and start brawls. If anyone dared challenge them then they would set upon him. There were several cases of men beaten to death or left stabbed and bleeding in a gutter. The bargirls were harassed beyond endurance till they became too frightened to work any more.

The highways became unsafe and all but impassable with robbers and muggers lurking for any opportunity. Not even the clothes on a traveller's back were safe. More than once would-be market traders arrived at Bree or elsewhere naked as the day they were born, bruises and cuts all over their body, their carts destroyed and burning, their mules or ponies stolen, chased into the wilds or else killed for meat, their wares thieved if of use or broken or burned out of rage or sheer maliciousness if not.

Girls and women did not go out after dark and even in daylight stayed within the confines of their village or, if there were strangers staying at the Inns, confined themselves to their houses, the doors barred and the shutters tight. If they had to go out, they never did so alone.

"I have heard of two incidents of—"

Halladan brought himself short suddenly, as if he had forgotten to whom he was speaking.

"Two incidents of?"

Halladan looked horribly awkward.

"When a woman is…" The words were being ground out of him. "…forcibly…"

The expression on her face told him she had understood. She was greatly upset, getting up suddenly from her chair to cross to the window and stare outside.

"Forgive me, Pen-ii." He did not turn to look at her. "I did not mean for you to—"

"Carry on," she said curtly, cutting him off. She had insisted he tell her, so he had better finish.

There had been one case amongst the Dunedain, or an attempted rape at any rate. A few half-orcs had raided a cottage for food, supplies or perhaps for the sheer enjoyment of vandalism. It was the household of one who had ridden south, never to return but instead to lie under the cold earth beside Halbarad on the Pelennor. His son, the same age as Arvain, had been far to the west when the message that Aragorn needed the Dunedain had been sent out, and there had not been time for the summons to reach him.

On this particular day he was out hunting, it being still unheard of for these strangers to attack habitations, so he had not appreciated the danger. His mother was in the stable barn, caring for a pregnant mare who was labouring when the raid took place and one of them, scouting the outbuildings for anything of use, had discovered her and decided to take his chance. She had grabbed a knife from a nearby shelf even as she had been wrangled to the ground, and cut her attacker's face, all but taking out his eye, and he had staggered from the place, screaming and roaring, while his friends pulled him away and run off into the surrounding woods.

When her eldest son had returned home an hour or two later to find her furious and distressed in equal measure, he had sent her immediately to stay with family nearby along with his two younger sisters and brother (who had barricaded themselves in an upstairs bedroom during the attack, the boy, all of eleven, wielding a sword nearly as big as himself 'just in case'). Then he had spent two months hunting down the half-orc with the livid scar down his face, riding hard and fast, asking everywhere he went.

"Did he find him?"

"Eventually. In one of their settlements in the north. Boasting lies about how he came to be blinded in one eye though in truth he had been thwarted in his goal."

"And?"

"He killed him. And then set fire to the settlement but not before he cut down eleven others while the rest ran in terror from his fury. "

"Good." Penny surprised herself by the level of hatred she felt for them.

"He swore as they ran that he and all like him would hunt every one of them down like the dogs they were, that the Dunedain were not a people to be crossed and they would live to regret the day they had seen fit to enter our lands."

Halladan spoke with a passion and vehemence that matched the level of feeling Penny could sense coursing through her. She was furious, but at the same time appalled at what he was telling her, appalled at all that which she felt she had allowed to happen.

"And there are orcs and wolves, and something like wolves only worse, in great numbers in the more uninhabited places, places which only the Dunedain know of and to which only we go. Or rather there have been. Their numbers are far less now and rapidly decreasing. They know well enough to flee the swords of the Dunedain. As stupid as an orc might be, he understands that much."

She turned to look at him then, at his hunched figure as he leaned forward, his arms on his thighs, looking into the fire.

"You have had to fight?"

"Of course." He nodded. "More than once."

"And how… I mean to say… I worried about you."

She could see he straightened a little in his seat, his head turned towards her a little, listening.

"Perhaps I should not say that, perhaps it is not what you want to hear, but after what happened that time in the camp… I know you said it was nothing serious, but I still worried about how you would fare the first time you had to lift your sword in battle once more."

Silence fell.

"Forgive me. Perhaps I should not have mentioned it," she said quietly after some time.

"No, Pen-ii. I thank you for your concern. It was… hard, the first time. Not at the time, but… later, afterwards. I thank Elbereth it was Arvain with me and no one else."

She wanted nothing more than to go over to him and hold his hand, touch his shoulder – anything to show some sign of comfort – but did not know if she dared. At the same time she felt such a wave of guilt, over all he had told her, but most particularly that her decisions had put him through such a thing. A long silence passed, so much so that he turned to look at her at last and when he did so he could see, by the fire's glow, the glint of tears on her cheek, though she turned away quickly to try to hide them. He was on his feet at once.

"Hey now, hey now. None of this is your fault."

He had hold of her by the shoulders, was looking down at her. She shook her head.

"I am so sorry, Halladan. I am so, so s-s-sorry…"

He pulled her gently to him and she collapsed against his chest while he folded his arms around her. At last the tears subsided and, as he felt her calming, he spoke quietly over the top of her head.

"I have told you the truth of it, Pen-ii, but know that it has not been any worse than that. Those incidents are bad enough, and one or two houses are burned to the ground, but they are a bunch of ruffians and cowards, easily dealt with and easily harried. Things are returning to normal at last, you have my word."

She pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes. Those beautiful, grey eyes.

"I thank you for your honesty. I will never forgive myself for what has come to pass, though I know there was no other way that I could see."

"Galadriel herself said to you…"

"She was talking of Suza."

"How do you know that?"

Penny hesitated. Good point.

"Because… Because…"

"What is done is done. They would have headed north no matter when we returned. They would have caused trouble and behaved as they did even if we had been here – we are only so many and cannot be in all places at once. As much as it makes the bile rise to my throat to learn of their deeds and the impunity with which they have beaten old men, assaulted maidens, frightened children or stolen or killed livestock, I know we could not have prevented it all even if we had never ridden south."

He was trying to catch her eye, trying to make sure his point had hit home. Penny nodded, accepting what he was trying to say.

"Now, let us take those tea things back to the kitchens, and then perhaps you can show me some of those pots you have been painting."


	58. Beating Round The Bush

**Chapter 58** – _"Beating Round The Bush"_

When Halladan left the next day, Penny could not help but get the feeling that Faelon's opinion was they could have stayed a day longer, but that Halladan seemed to be in a hurry to get away.

After their moment in the darkened antechamber the previous afternoon even Penny had felt odd with him, unable to keep her mind off how it had felt to be in his arms, to be comforted by him once more, and it appeared as if possibly Halladan felt the same way. Certainly he had sunk back to the same quiet reticence that he had had when he had first arrived, looking over her pots as she showed them to him with quiet interest, but hurrying away quickly, muttering something about needed to speak to Naurdir about supplies.

And yet he still pulled her aside just before they went into the dining hall for the evening meal to ask her how she fared, concerned she was not too upset by what he had told her.

Blowing hot and cold, he was; swinging from one thing to another and back again.

That night when she headed off to bed, Faelon offered to walk with her to her chambers, saying he would also turn in 'since Halladan is so insistent on an early start in the morning.' Something about the way he said it apparently guilted Halladan into accompanying them, and it at least gave Penny the opportunity to show off her birthday presents. She said as much as they wandered down the corridors, at which Halladan, silent and brooding beside Faelon, suddenly started, mumbled something about 'seeing them there' and hared off. If Penny seemed surprised, Faelon did not bat an eyelid and carried on talking serenely as if nothing untoward had happened.

Faelon was admiring Glorfindel's dagger, saying how he remembered when he had been gifted his first elvish dagger at the tender age of fourteen, when Halladan appeared behind him in the doorway, Faelon having not stepped more than a foot into Penny's room (something which she had put down to etiquette and social niceties and thus had not pressed him upon). Halladan now examined the dagger in his turn, taking it out of the scabbard and assessing the blade with obvious approval. Neither of them had seen it in all the time Penny had been travelling with them, of course, since she had never once got it out of her bag.

Halladan was then duly shown all her other gifts, making suitably appreciative noises at them all. Then Faelon said he had better say goodnight and stepped out into the shadows of the corridor though he did not go more than a few feet before he stopped and waited for Halladan. As Faelon stepped past him and through the doorway, Halladan reached into a pouch on his belt, saying that he had something for Penny.

"Consider it a late birthday gift," he said, holding out what Penny could see was a wooden carving and, as she drew closer and took it into her hands, realised was a stag, exactly in scale to the doe he had made her before, standing tall and proud, almost defiant in its stance.

See, it was moments like this that made it damn difficult to remember that she really had to squash down whatever feelings she had for him.

She swallowed hard, trying not to think about whatever sensations were welling up inside her right now. She could not look at him.

"Thank you. It… is beautiful."

She ran her thumb over its flank, aware that it felt far smoother than the doe, that he had clearly managed to get hold of a finer grade of file somewhere, perhaps even oiled the wood to finish it properly.

He was shrugging.

"Really it is nothing. An idle pastime that helps to occupy my thoughts at the campfire. I thought it would match the doe that I made…"

He trailed off, following the direction of Penny's glance into her room to see that the doe had pride of place on top of the little chest of drawers to one side of the room where she could not fail to catch sight of it every morning when she awoke.

"Anyway, I had best be off. We have an early start tomorrow as Faelon said."

Penny nodded, still too overcome to speak.

Damn him. Damn him and damn the stag and damn it all!

He turned and left, even as she whispered goodnight, hearing her voice crack as she did so.

It all meant that their farewells when he left the next day were nearly as awkward and strained as they had been the last time. Faelon hugged her warmly, though, and told her Morfinniel and the rest of the family were looking forward to meeting her and that he, Arvain and Halladan would be back to see her once more as soon as they might.

"Is that not so, Halladan?" he added deliberately.

Halladan nodded, though it was as if he had been forced to agree. He also qualified his agreement.

"There is still much to be done, Pen-ii, so…"

Faelon shook his head and rolled his eyes, turning his horse to head off in the direction of the gate.

"There is such a thing as being overly conscientious, you know, Halladan!" He glanced behind him to Penny and the others seeing them off. "Fare you well!"

Penny raised her hand along with everyone else and tried not to feel too hard done by when Halladan said a general farewell to all and not one to her in particular. He was eager to be off, she could see it in him, and he could not quite look her in the eye.

Shit, damn and blast it all to hell!

Penny was somewhat despondent after Halladan had left. He had been so up and down and all over the place in his interaction with her that it had been hard to deal with on some levels. One good thing, however, had been Faelon's quiet assurance to her that he was doing much better and that even Elrond had said so.

"He is well enough to ride alone, so Elrond thinks, and I agree. You would be proud of the strength of character he has shown. It has not been easy for him."

She could well believe it.

It was no surprise, then, that the next time Halladan arrived at Imladris, he was by himself.

What _was_ something of a surprise, however, was that it was barely three weeks after he had left the last time, especially given how long he had stayed away prior to it, let alone his whole attitude with her when he had left.

Penny was waiting outside the dining hall for the midday meal to start, chatting with Mireth and a few other ellith, when she spotted him coming down the corridor towards them, deep in conversation with Lindir and Glorfindel. She stared, unable to believe it was truly him for a moment, when he looked up and caught sight of her, nodded and greeted her and those with her.

"It is good to see you again," Mireth enthused. "And so soon!"

Was it Penny's imagination or did he glance in her direction before he replied?

"Well, I am meeting Arvain here and perhaps Tadion also. We thought it might be nice for Pen-ii if we celebrated Mettarë here this year…"

"Ah, but of course!"

Penny was confused. "Mettarë is in spring, is it not?"

"Not for the Dunedain. They celebrate it in mid-winter."

"Oh, yes, of course! I forgot!"

"It will not be quite the same as at home, Pen-ii," Halladan said, "but we will make a pleasant day of it nonetheless."

"Oh, I am sure we will," agreed Lindir with a grin. "We were just discussing where best to hold the celebrations."

"Two Mettarë festivals?" One of the ellith seemed amused.

"And why not?" Glorfindel countered. "It would not be the first time."

"True enough," Mireth replied, "though it has been a little while since we last—"

"That is only because it has been some years since we last had enough Dunedain with us at mid-winter to warrant celebrating it," Lindir pointed out.

"Halladan here says that there will be several joining us this year," Glorfindel explained to Mireth, "which is why it would be worth considering. After all, what is there to be done, in truth? Some roast venison, dancing, music and song? These things are easily arranged and no one would begrudge them, indeed all would be glad of it."

"Any excuse for a party," Penny retorted, grinning, pleasantly surprised when Halladan caught her eye and laughed.

"Well, yes, that also," Lindir agreed, entirely straight-faced.

As they went into the dining hall, Halladan explained that word had spread and it had been generally decided that anyone who would be too far from home for the festival, perhaps out on patrol, but felt they could reach Imladris in enough time, would make their way there instead.

Indeed just as Halladan had predicted, two more Dunedain arrived later that afternoon, one more late that night and then the next day came several more, Arvain and Tadion amongst them. It was not many, but it was enough, apparently, for the elves to start busying themselves with preparations for a shindig the following evening.

Arvain was clearly looking forward to an opportunity to relax. Even Penny could tell that there was a certain something about him – a hint of tension or sadness, as if he was desperate to try and forget something for a while. He started drinking quite a bit from the moment he arrived and his whole demeanour reminded her a little of how he had been in Gondor. She remembered how she had then wondered if that had been his way of dealing with his grief and pain, just as Halladan had brooded and turned to solitude. She wanted to ask what the situation was with Hisaeleth, but did not dare broach the subject with him. She would wait for him to mention it first (though she knew that was highly unlikely to happen) and try and quiz the others about it if an opportunity presented itself.

He did, however, bring her a belated birthday present.

"It is not much, I know, but I could not think of what to give you that the elves could not already offer you that would be of far finer quality, so instead…"

And with a flourish from behind his back he produced an earthenware jar with a muslin cover tied over the lid covering a wax-sealed cork. Penny blinked.

"My very own Special Chutney."

Halladan, standing beside him, looked at him in surprise.

"Did you make that specially?"

"No, I had one jar left."

"You…! You said we had none left!"

"I lied. I knew if you, Hirvell or Father knew about it I would never see it again and that it would be quite a while before I had time to make some more so I hid one."

"Where?!"

"In the bottom of my wardrobe inside an old boot under a spare blanket if you must know."

"Um… pardon me for interrupting, but… chutney?"

"It is very good, Pen-ii," Halladan conceded. "About the only thing that Arvain_ can_ cook, but nevertheless…"

"Hey! I can cook plenty of things!"

"Name three."

"Roast rabbit, roast partridge and roast fish."

"Apart from anything stuck on a stick and held over a fire."

"Thank you for the chutney!"

Penny grinned and waggled the pot at Arvain who grinned back, before turning his attention back to his brother so he could defend this slur upon his culinary skill. Penny left them to it and went to put it in her room. Later Tadion revealed it was actually an old recipe of Morfinniel's maternal grandmother's, though Arvain insisted that, through trial, error and experiment he had 'perfected' it and even Tadion had to admit that it was not half bad as chutneys went.

Indeed in comparison to Arvain's hint of being almost overly jovial to compensate for whatever else he might be feeling, Tadion was simply on as good a form as ever. Certainly he was as enthusiastic about seeing Penny as Arvain was, declaring loudly that he would have several dances with her the following evening whether she liked it or not.

"Oh indeed?"

"But of course! It is Mettarë! You have to dance on Mettarë!"

"You wait till next year, Pen-ii," Arvain said. "At home we have a party that lasts three days. Bonfires, fireworks if Gandalf is around… Which reminds me - any sign of him here of late?"

"No, none. Not since he left with Maura and the others."

"Really?" Tadion seemed surprised. "I have bumped into him at least once on patrol and heard rumour of him from all over."

"Perhaps that is the point, Tadion," Halladan said quietly. "He has much to see to, many people to calm and put at ease. He is skilled in it and the people need him after what they have been through."

"True enough," Tadion replied, grimly.

Penny looked uncomfortable and Halladan changed the subject by wondering if the hunt was back yet and how many hart they might return with.

Over the two days since his arrival before the Mettarë feast, Halladan appeared to be warming slowly to Penny once again compared to his attitude when he had last seen her. There was still a certain reticence, but less so than before, and on occasions such as this – when discussion veered dangerously towards references of what had gone on in the north – he instantly became his usual, protective self towards her. Over meals or when she was sitting in company if they caught each other's eye he would smile, but he would also turn away after a moment, as if to distract himself. While he seemed to be relaxing, there was still something else, some self-constructed barrier that, for all Penny's calm, reassuring patience, forever appeared to be in the way. Perhaps that was how it would always be, Penny began to wonder; perhaps this was the best she could hope for. Only time would tell.

The morning of the Dunedain calender's Mettarë passed much like any other day for Penny. She did briefly call in to the kitchens, but it was a scene of organised chaos with the preparations for that night's feast and Naurdir was far too busy for her to stop him and see if he needed help, so she thought it was best to leave them to get on with it unhindered.

For the Dunedain the drinking started at midday meal, though Naurdir turfed them out of the dining hall after an hour or so if only so he could get things ready for the evening. They all de-camped to a large antechamber, several of the elves joining them. Penny was persuaded to accompany them for a while, but it all seemed very 'male' and raucous, and she slipped away with the last of the ellith to do so within a half hour and instead went to see if any help was needed with the preparations.

Great swathes of evergreens – ivy, holly, mistletoe and others – had been cut down and brought inside so that now huge clumps were piled all over the place in the dining hall, and Penny found several elves busily twisting the branches and leaves together to make great garlands of them, laughing, chattering, gossiping and singing as they did so. She set to work to lend a hand. Rosehips and bryony vine, butcher's broom berries and winter roses as well as many other berries and the few winter flowers to be found at this time of year were intertwined with the swathes of greenery. Then they were lifted up to others already up on ladders who fixed them to the walls high above so that eventually the whole hall was filled with zig-zagging festoons of foliage. Lanterns were hung from strategic points within the whole and candles set about the place, many surrounded by their own little wreaths of greenery and berries. When they were finished preparing the dining hall, Penny was asked to come and help do the same with the Hall of Fire also, though here the garlands were hung in a great circular web round the central fire, which itself would be where the two whole deer was already being slowly roasted.

There was little time to get ready, though Penny and a few other ellith all came to Mireth's room once dressed – Penny in the same red dress she had worn at the wedding – to do each others' hair. Mireth tied Penny's back at the sides using the hair ornament Elrond had given her to help keep it in place, but otherwise left it loose, though she added a sprinkling of winter flowers here, there and everywhere. The other ellith were doing the same. Penny could never understand how they got them to stay, but they did, and the effect was really very pretty.

Then, as soon as dusk began, so did the celebrations.

It was immediately apparent to Penny as she walked along the corridors to the dining hall that the 'dress code' (such as it was) was for all the females to have flowers and twists of berries in their hair and all the males to wear 'crowns' or rings of greenery round their heads. The ellyn were in their best tunics and had brushed their boots (but then when did an elf never make an effort to look his best?) and whether the Dunedain had brought spare tunics with them or borrowed ones from friends amongst the ellyn, they all looked smart and spruced, despite the afternoon's drinking.

At the far end of the dining hall on a low dais were the musicians who at first seemed to be working by some sort of rota system but, as the evening wore on and more was drunk, it seemed that whoever wanted to play could do so while whoever was playing and fancied a break would simply grab the nearest elf to them to take over. The room had been cleared of the long tables that usually filled it to make room for dancing, though the benches had been left and lined the walls. The Hall of Fire was where the vats of wine and ale had been positioned and, later, tables would groan with the weight of great bowls of warmed mulled wine and jugs of mead.

Tadion had the first dance with Penny, her shyness over such things long disappeared thanks to the many dances in Gondor and Rohan, and then it was Arvain's turn, followed by Lindir. Halladan seemed to be supremely uninterested in dancing, and had even produced his stick for the evening even though Penny could not remember the last time she had seen him walk with it. For a while she was worried that perhaps he had strained his old war wound during his last ride out on patrol till she overheard Tadion teasing him about it and saying if he was not in the mood to dance all he had to do was say so, not lean on the stick like some old man and pretend he was incapable.

As disappointed as Penny was, she also decided that perhaps it was no bad thing that she would have no opportunity to dance with him, with all the holding hands, keeping eye contact for minutes at a time and all the rest that it would involve. For all that the dances were not of the sort where close contact was made at any time, they could still be remarkably intimate in some ways if the dancers so chose – certainly lovers, be they the betrothed (or soon to be so) or newly married, could feel alone within the crowd and relish each touch, each look as they moved and circled round about each other, stepping forward only to step back and round once more. Yeah, it was perhaps no bad thing she avoided that sort of stuff with him because it would only remind her of all the things she was trying not to think about (and failing miserably a lot of the time when he was around it had to be said). That said she had to try and not grin like an idiot when he complimented her on how 'fine she looked this evening,' adding that 'the flowers in her hair suited her admirably as did the hairpiece Elrond had gifted her.' Anyone else who paid her the same compliment that evening she did not believe in the slightest, but when Halladan said it, a tiny little Penny deep inside her skipped a jig and pumped its fist in the air yelling 'YES!' (however much she did her best to ignore her and tell her to shut the hell up).

Thus she whiled away a happy couple of hours dancing with many an ellon and Dunadan (apart from Halladan) and decided that, as winter parties went, it was a hell of a lot better than most Christmas bashes she had been to. No would-be managers snogging secretaries in the supplies cupboard for a start, let alone the ubiquitous pillock from Finance photocopying his backside and sticking the results on the MD's office door. That or middle-aged aunts hitting the vermouth like there was no tomorrow because their long-suffering husband was chatting up some young university friend of a cousin's (as usual), or still more cousins sneaking illicit vodka into the punch with hideous consequences as well as the brats over-indulging in chocolate and throwing trantrums (before throwing up over someone's new shoes) and not forgetting aged great-aunts scolding bright, young things for wearing the wrong clothes, for not studying hard enough and for not having found the right man yet because if they did not do so soon they would be left on the shelf and die a hideous, lonely death without children or friends to care for then, didn't they know?

She said as much to Arvain and Tadion who looked FAR too disbelieving and innocent while claiming they could not possibly understand what she might mean about cousins causing havoc at family parties for Penny not to make a mental note to ask Halladan about it at some point.

Late in the evening the tables were brought back in and there followed a fairly loud and rambunctious meal which included more alcohol, loud (if beautiful) singing in parts, and, near the end, a speech by Elladan on what a glorious year it had been with all its achievements, in which the Dunedain had magnificently played their part, and what an even more glorious year lay ahead of them. It was indeed a fine and noble speech of which his father could be proud… or at least it would have been were it not for the fact that he was standing on a table at the time which dented the decorum of the moment somewhat. Not only that, but every time he gesticulated a little too animatedly (spraying those sitting below him, chiefly his father, brother and Glorfindel, with sloshes of wine from his cup) and set himself off balance, he would perform a delicate elvish skip to compensate – a manoeuvre that no human or hobbit could have achieved even without that much drink inside them without knocking plates, jugs, cups or bowls of fruit flying – which gave Penny such an attack of the giggles that she had to stop looking at him and got the hiccups, which in turn only served to set off those near her into rampant sniggering as well. He also went on for exactly too long and thus was forced to bring his pontificating to an abrupt end to a chorus of hoots, whistles and cheering while still in mid-sentence. He was jovial enough, however, grinning and leaping off the table with a flourish (and thus ensuring the final dregs of his cup hit Erestor squarely in the eye as he did so).

Then at last the tables were cleared away once more and the dancing continued until dawn. The conversation flowed, as did the mulled wine, ale and mead. Penny was somewhat tiddly by this point, but then so was everyone else and frankly a good many of the Dunedain were decidedly drunk, as were one or two of the elves (though they would never have admitted it).

It said much that it was only now, after a skin full, that Halladan asked Penny to dance. Had Penny not had quite so much to drink herself, she might have taken notice of how he had stood in front of her for a full five seconds, his gaze raking all over her face quite openly if not brazenly, before he reached out for her hand and then, in a voice that was astonishingly warm and tender (if slurred at points) given how distant he had been at times of late, asked if she would do him the honour of allowing him a dance.

But she did not notice and perhaps it was no bad thing, for both their sakes, that she simply cheerfully (and a tad too loudly) said 'Of course!' and 'It took you long enough!' and dragged him out to the centre of the floor before he could change his mind.

Of course once she was there she realised her mistake. The moment she felt her hand in his, looked up to see him smiling at her, even as she stepped towards him, both hands touching for a moment, the feel of his fingertips lingering, burning against her palm as they parted, she felt horribly sober for a moment and knew it was hopeless. For all her promises and resolutions and determination, she knew she was still ridiculously in love with him and that it hurt like hell that he had not come to see her for so long as well as the fact that even now, even today, he still could not relax with her, that he could ask her to dance only when he was well on the way to drunk and that he had very possibly only brought his stick with him precisely to prevent her asking him for a dance at any point during the proceedings.

Caught as she was between enjoying every moment of the dance with him and wanting to sink into an alcohol-fuelled fit of depression, she was not concentrating on her footing and, as the music came to a stop, Penny did not quite manage to do the same and stumbled slightly. Halladan caught her and for a moment held her in his arms while they looked at each other, enough alcohol coursing through their veins for neither to be thinking particularly clearly and only to be all too aware of their arms about each other.

"Let us sit you down," Halladan said hurriedly, and promptly led her to where Mireth and Elladan were seated close by, barely pausing to see her seated before immediately disappearing off to the Hall of Fire.

Penny did not see him again for the rest of the evening, though when she was on her way to bed in the early hours she caught sight of Arvain and an ellon coming out of the Hall of Fire and starting to zig-zag gently and good-naturedly down the corridor, dragging the slumped and all but unconscious figure of Halladan between them.

It should be said in fairness, however, that he was far from the only one to drink himself into a stupor that night. Come the dawn all that could be seen of Tadion was a pair of feet sticking out from under a table.

Before going to bed, Mireth insisted Penny accompany her to the kitchens where, as well as having plenty of water to drink, Penny was made to down some vile herbal concoction made from a foul-smelling powder, a spoonful of honey and some milk. Frankly, with the walls of the kitchen beginning to reel slightly around her, Penny was not sure she was up to such a thing, but she drank it nonetheless and then teetered her way gently to her room. Whatever it was worked, though, for she awoke late morning feeling not too bad all things considering.

The Dunedain on the other hand were in a very sorry state indeed, and Penny took great amusement in talking ever so slightly too loudly at them over a late breakfast.

"You know what you need?" she said to Arvain as he sat with his head in hands, his elbows on the table. "A good, strong cup of tea."

"Quite right, Pen-ii," agreed Bilbo who, though he had already had breakfast at the usual early hour and Second Breakfast an hour later, was not going to pass up this opportunity of having another and thus had joined all the late risers in the dining hall. "Pass me the jam, would you?"

"Please, Pen-ii," Arvain groaned, "I am not in the mood."

"I mean it. Tea does wonders for a hangover. Tadion? Want to try some?"

"Flbthrrgsh."

"And the same to you." Penny sniggered.

"Oh shurrup."

"Sleep well?"

"I did… until Naurdir kicked me awake at some Eru-forsaken hour."

"You mean five minutes ago?"

"Was it?"

"He needed to clear away the tables, Tadion!"

"Hmph."

"Have some tea. It will make you feel better."

There was a pause. "Oh, very well. If it will keep you quiet, I will."

She poured him some. "I made no promises about keeping quiet."

"In that case," Tadion retorted, albeit good-naturedly as he grabbed his cup of tea and a hunk of bread and honey from his plate, "I am off to my room to sleep some more. Good morning to you."

"I think I might do the same, Pen-ii," Arvain mumbled.

"And how about you, Halladan? How are you feeling this morning?" Penny turned to him brightly.

Halladan grimaced.

"Pen-ii, you are far too cheery for men with hangovers to deal with."

"Blame Mireth. She made me take some foul drink before bed and it really helped."

Arvain sat up in horror.

"Gah, not the blackroot tuber?" He said in horror, only to clutch at his head, regretting his sudden movement.

"Is that what it is called? I do not know. She made it, told me to drink it and I did."

Arvain and Halladan exchanged a glance. Penny felt nervous.

"What is it?"

Arvain and Halladan were clearly trying not to laugh.

"Oh, nothing."

"Nothing at all."

"What!"

"You will see."

"Indeed."

Later that morning when she had to visit the latrine for the fourth time that day, Penny quietly cursed Mireth, whose only response when Penny complained to her about it was 'Oh, yes! I forgot it has that effect on mortals.'

Tadion and Arvain had planned to head off two days after Mettarë, but Halladan was undecided as to when he might leave. Ever since the feast day he seemed to have had something on his mind. He became so preoccupied with whatever it was that his temper became noticeably shorter than usual. At first it was put down to a hangover the size of a troll, but it soon became apparent that this mood was lasting far longer than any hangover might be reasonably expected to last and thus clearly had nothing to do with any such thing. He was reserved once again, withdrawn, unsociable and irritable, becoming unnecessarily short with people, especially if they interrupted his solitude. A comment directed to him in particular when he was sitting brooding, staring at the fire while in company, was likely to get a sharp response. It happened once to Penny, who had merely asked him if he would like a refill of wine, only to be met by a very sharp 'What is it?' As soon as he had realised it was her who had spoken, his face fell and he was hugely apologetic, but the expression of surprise, and perhaps a little hurt, on her face had seen by others because Arvain actually took her to one side later that evening to apologise on Halladan's behalf.

"He has not been himself of late," was all he would say.

"But I thought he was getting better. Faelon said so, and that Elrond himself had said…"

"No, no, it is nothing to do with that. Or at least I do not think so. Sometimes he can get like this, when he broods over something… though…" and he glanced over his shoulder over to the far side of the Hall of Fire where Halladan sat in a corner still, "…I have not seen him quite this bad before. Do not worry over him, Pen-ii. He will soon snap out of it."

He gave her a reassuring smile, but Penny was still at something of a loss as to what to make of it.

Of course Arvain could hardly talk. Even though the celebrations were over, he was still taking advantage of Elrond's stores of wine and ale and hitting them hard. Penny and Tadion would sit with the pair of them - as Halladan stared at the fire, silent and strangely morose, while Arvain helped himself to refill after refill - and they would exchange anxious glances. It was some relief to know that Tadion could see it too – after all he knew them far better than she did. Penny actually pulled Tadion to one side the night before he and Arvain left and made him promise that he would keep an eye on the pair of them and get Faelon to do the same, though just like Arvain had done with Halladan, he assured her that they were both fine, just preoccupied.

The next day Arvain and Tadion left early, the last of the Dunedain to leave apart from Halladan. Once left on his own, whatever it was that seemed to be bothering Halladan consumed him to the point that Penny actually saw very little of him for the rest of the day. Once or twice in the morning as she went to and from the chickens and then to and from the stables she spotted him walking in the gardens and at one point sitting on a distant bench under the trees, his back to the halls, wisps of pipe smoke trailing up towards the bare branches. In the afternoon, straight after lunch, he went for a long ride and did not return until dusk whereupon he went straight to seek out Elrond in his study and the two of them were then shut up there together for a couple of hours, only emerging at last when the dinner bell rang. However, whatever it was that they had talked about, one thing that was immediately apparent was that Halladan seemed certainly calmer – thoughtful still, yes, but far less troubled.

After dinner he took Penny to one side in the corridor outside the Hall of Fire and said he had decided to leave the following day.

"I… I have much to think about, Pen-ii. I cannot explain, and I am sorry if I have seemed somewhat ill at ease of late. Forgive me. And I must especially apologise for speaking to you sharply yesterday. I should not have done that."

"There is no need, Halladan."

He looked at her, and Penny had the very strong impression that he wanted to say more, or that there was more he could say but chose not to.

"I do not know when I will return. It may be a few weeks… it may be longer. I cannot tell you."

Why all this sudden openness about when he might or might not reappear? She was not going to complain, indeed was glad of it, but she wondered what had brought it about.

"Come," he said, offering her his arm, "Let us spend one last night amongst friends before I have to ride out into the winter cold, yes?"

And it was one of the most pleasant evenings Penny had had with him for a long time. No awkwardness, no brooding silences, only relaxed enjoyment in each other's company – it was almost like old times again and Penny, for the first time since her return to Imladris, allowed herself to believe that they truly could be friends just as they had grown to become during their journey north together.

She was sorry to see him go the next morning, but he was so much more at ease with her that she did not mind so much. He assured her once more that he would be back as soon as he could even though he could not say how long that might be, and then rode off with a wave of his hand. Feeling on something of a small high thanks to his change in demeanour, Penny paid the carpenters a visit that day in his honour and asked if she could do some work with them. Happy to have their somewhat irregular apprentice make an appearance, they got her to sand and polish the two finished chairs of a set of four that they were making, currently busily carving intricate designs into the backs. They were to be a wedding present for Mireth and Celebdor, apparently.

Indeed, now that mid-winter was come and spring would be no more than a month or two away, the countdown had begun at last till the happy union. Mireth was beginning to get excited, and Celebdor was even more jovial than usual.

A week after Halladan had left Mireth alarmed Penny considerably by suggesting that she should add a little something to her wedding dress.

Penny boggled at her.

"Er…"

"It is our way. The embroidery on any dress is quite some work and is always a communal effort. Every ellith in Imladris had a hand in Arwen's dress, as did many of the ellyn too. We are skilled and in sharing the load it is done that much more quickly, but also when it is a dress for an occasion such as a wedding… well, it is a personal gesture also, from friends and those dear to those that are to bind, those that love them and have watched their love grow and come together. The same is true for the tunic of the groom, his boots, indeed anything and everything that they will wear that is newly made for that day – it is made with them in mind and with love from those who know them."

Penny was still boggling.

"But… I-I cannot sew to the standard of an elf, Mireth! You know that better than anyone! You have seen how appalling my embroidery work is!"

"You are learning and even if you were to do only one stitch it would be enough. To sew on one gemst—"

"You would honestly let me loose on a gemstone?!"

Penny all but laughed in Mireth's face. It was only the fact that Mireth was clearly being perfectly serious that stopped her.

"Yes. I would. One gemstone, Pen-ii. The dress is finished – it has been for a few years - so one stitch over the top of another would be easy enough would it not? Please? It would mean much to me if —"

"I am touched you would ask me, Mireth. I will do it. But do not say I did not warn you."

Now it was Mireth's turn to laugh.

So it was that for a week or two in the evenings after supper, Penny could be found frowning over a small circular embroidery frame, sewing and re-sewing the tiny knotted leaf motif Mireth had taught her so that she could get it at least to the level of 'almost passable enough to go somewhere where it would not be noticed.' Penny suggested under the armpit or on the inside of the hem, but Mireth protested laughingly.

Then, when Penny felt she had practised enough and it was as good as it was ever going to get, she was taken to the sewing room to see The Dress. It had been swathed in muslin and linens to protect it and kept in a small chamber off the main sewing room where various finished 'projects' were kept in storage. It was laid out on the big central table in the main room and carefully unwrapped. Penny gasped when she saw it. It seemed as soft as gossamer, but glimmered and gleamed with jewels and gold and silver threads. It was a pale sky blue with the train and trailing sleeves fading to a cream colour. It was stunning just lying flat on the table top, but Penny had no doubt it would look extraordinary once worn, let alone once worn by Mireth. A wave of fear took hold of her at the idea of actually sticking a needle anywhere near it, but with plenty of gentle encouragement from the ellith round her and Mireth in particular, she tentatively chose the most unobtrusive spot she could think of – right at the bottom of the skirt of the dress, tucked away in the middle of a whole load of very busy embroidery, and tidily did her few little stitches.

"There," she said, straightening. Then she quickly covered it with her hand. "And you must promise you will not look too closely at it, Mireth."

Mireth just smiled and hugged her.

The days passed much as they had before Mettarë for Penny. Snow fell, though not thickly, and she was even more glad of the fireplace in her room at such a time, let alone the heavy quilt that was now on top of the blankets on her bed. She often thought of the Dunedain riding in these conditions with their fur-lined boots and heavy cloaks drawn round their faces. They had told her of the camps they would build on such nights – rudimentary shelters, easily and quickly constructed once you knew how, to keep off the snow and keep the warmth of the fire in. If they said such things worked well enough and kept you warm at night, who was she to disbelieve them, but rather them than her.

Then, much to her surprise, only three weeks after he had last left, Halladan returned to Imladris. It was snowing hard and she was running from the goat sheds to the main halls, her shawl wrapped round her head, wearing the new winter boots that Celebdor and Lindir between them had made for her. She was aiming for the same entrance that was used to go to the stables and, her head down, only thinking to get to the nearest fire and fast, she did not see anyone ahead of her aiming for the same doorway, and thus crashed straight into the back of Halladan. She began to apologise and then, realising who it was, stared at him for a moment before a smile slowly seeped its way onto her features.

He too was smiling slowly at her, taking his time to look at her before he said her name. She just beamed back at him and his smile widened in return. Then, as if suddenly aware of their surroundings he looked round at the snow.

"Come. Let us get out of this and into the warm."

But even as he ushered her in, there was something gentle, almost tender about the action, and he was still smiling; and it made Penny smile too, though she was not sure why. There was something about him, something… different, something that had changed since the last time she had seen him.

And as they walked, he was asking her questions about how she was faring, what she had been up to since he had seen her last, wanting to know chapter and verse, every detail. It was not that he had not asked such things of her in previous visits, just that this time there was a definite enthusiasm about him: a relish, a delight in her exploits.

She was not quite sure how to deal with this new and improved Halladan that had appeared out of the winter wilds but she was not going to complain. Perhaps at last he had come to terms with everything and they could get back to how things had been once more. She hoped so. She really did.

Over the four days that Halladan stayed, there was what could only be described as a definite thaw in their relationship. Imladris was white with snow but Penny and Halladan were cosy enough chatting, laughing or else discussing the murals and paintings as they walked about the corridors of Imladris together, and generally enjoying each others' company just as they had done months before. One afternoon they went riding, and then on another Penny took particular delight in showing Halladan some of the work she had done with the carpenters. Admiring some of the sanding and oiling she had done, he said she should do the same with the doe he had made her but she felt shy to say that she actually liked its roughness, that the 'unfinished' nature of it was a reminder of both how and when he had made it – of a time before they had felt awkward with each other and everything had turned sour and strained.

While Penny was thrilled that at last he had relaxed and calmed down about everything, when she was alone - perhaps late at night as she pottered about her room, washing, undressing, or sitting and reading a little beside the fire - she would sometimes feel sad at the prospect that one day she would yet again lose this friendship and companionship, so newly and unexpectedly rediscovered. She would quickly drive such thoughts out of her head as best she could, however, and chastise herself for not being happy with what she had, given it was a vast improvement from what she had had even only a few weeks before.

"I am happy for you," Mireth told her two days after he had left once more, this time promising he would return within a few weeks at most.

"I am glad we can be friends once more. For a long time I was worried that we would never get back to how things had been between us before."

Mireth simply smiled to herself as she got back to darning the elbow of one of Celebdor's old gardening undershirts.

Halladan was as good as his word. Within three weeks he had returned, and this time he came with Arvain. The snow had melted and the first early flowers of spring were just starting to show themselves, though only the snowdrops were beginning to flower. Mireth came to find Penny in her room to say they had arrived. Penny, grabbing her shawl since she assumed they were still either outside the main entrance or at the stables from the way Mireth had spoken, came down to find them actually waiting in the small cloister nearest to the staircase to her room. When she grinned at Halladan his smile was warm, but there was a strangely serious and intense look on his face. Even Arvain seemed to be smirking about something the moment he saw her. Halladan also kissed her hand, something he had not done in a long time, and as he did so he held her gaze for a moment, still smiling a little, and in spite of herself her stomach did a flip to feel his lips on her fingers as she looked into those grey eyes of his.

Damn, she hoped in hell she was not blushing. That would REALLY not be clever.

"Come with us," Halladan said. "We have something to show you."

The smile on his face seemed to want to burst into a grin and when Penny glanced at Arvain she could see he was biting his cheeks in an attempt to keep straight-faced. What were they up to? Arvain caught her look and chuckled.

"Wait and see."

It was soon clear they were leading her to the stables, but Penny still could not fathom what they were about even when Halladan led her straight to one of the stalls and then stood beside it, waiting for her to say something. The mare that looked up from munching on some hay was not one Penny recognised. It was clearly from the Dunedain's horse stock, though, given it had a heavier, stockier build than most elvish horses and the shaggier coat which was ideal for any animal which had to spend long weeks or months outside in all weathers.

"Well?" Arvain said at last.

Penny blinked at them both.

"She is yours," Halladan explained

Penny stared at him open-mouthed.

"What? You are not serious?"

"But of course, Pen-ii!" He laughed then. "You must have a horse, and while I am sure Elrond and Lindir would gladly have sent you to us with one of the large number here, I felt…" There was a cough on the other side of Penny. "Arvain and I _both_ felt that it would be fitting that you have one of ours. She is a fine horse, Pen-ii, ideally suited to you as a novice rider. She is good natured enough."

Penny was still trying to process this. In her mind, for all the time she had spent in this society where horses and ponies were the main means of transport, she was still inclined to think in modern English terms where a horse was an expensive thing, something that only those within a certain social class or above could own and afford to keep. And to simply give one as a present…!

"For me? To keep?"

Halladan was chuckling all over again. "Yes, Pen-ii!" The chuckling faded a little. "You do not like her?"

"What? No, no! No, I… I do not know what to say! It is a wonderful gift! Thank you!"

"So, what do you think of her, Pen-ii?" It was Lindir. He had spotted them all arrive from across the yard as they had entered this particular stable block. "She is a fine horse. From good stock, too, I can tell you that. Halbarad's great-great grandfather bred one of his mares with one of my stallions, Gilroch, and she comes from that line. See how much slenderer she is in parts from most Dunedain horses?" (Penny could not see any difference) "She will have speed, I can tell you, and also will be affectionate and loyal. Is that not right?"

Arvain and Halladan were nodding in agreement.

"What is her name?" Penny asked Arvain.

"Tálagor."

"Here." Lindir pulled out half an apple from his tunic pocket and handed it to Penny.

Penny called the horse's name and held out the apple. The mare hesitated for a moment and, so it seemed to Penny, looked to Halladan and Arvain first before ambling over to happily accept the offering. As she munched on it Penny stroked her nose, beaming.

"We can go for a ride this afternoon if you would like to," Halladan suggested.

"I would like that very much," Penny replied.

Looking at the two of them, Lindir turned away but not before he had caught Arvain's eye and the pair had exchanged a grin.

Halladan and Penny went riding every day, in fact, and spent many hours as on Halladan's previous visit, walking or talking together, always in each other's company even when surrounded by others, the only exceptions being when Penny had chores to do, and even then Halladan would sometimes appear to help out or just as she finished to suggest doing something together. It was perhaps noticeable that Arvain was conspicuous by his absence at such moments, but rather had always found something else to do.

During long walks in the gardens and woods, it was much as it had been months before when they had gone for their evening walks in the camp – Halladan now chatting idly about how life would be for Penny once she had left Imladris, how plans were already in motion for her to leave once Mireth was married, how Morfinniel was looking forward to meeting her and then he would invariably wander off into reminiscences and funny stories from his childhood while Penny would respond in kind, wondering still at this newfound warmth but loving every minute of it.

At the same time, however, as the days went by, a little nagging doubt began to worry at her. He was now _so_ warm and open that it was Penny who had started to become a little quiet and withdrawn, terrified that she would respond to his warmth in some way in spite of herself. The emotions she had for him that she had tried so hard to not think about were being rekindled and fast. It was terribly hard to ignore them with him smiling every time he caught her eye at a meal or when they were in company. Even when he was across on the other side of the room from her in the Hall of Fire he was looking out for her every now and then, watching her quietly with a soft intensity that made her stomach melt if she became aware of it.

Nor was it only that.

There were also the little smiles and looks that she would occasionally catch from Mireth, Lindir, Celebdor or any number of elves who knew her and Halladan well, particularly those who had travelled with them from Gondor. Arvain seemed particularly jovial and full of barely concealed smirks and it could not solely be because Hisaeleth had sent her suitor packing (though that would certainly have helped). She could guess at what they were thinking or saw in it all and it began to set alarm bells ringing though she was not wholly sure why at first.

When even Bilbo saw fit to note that 'she and Halladan had become very close' one afternoon when she was having tea with him (Halladan having, for once, opted to go off on a short hunting trip with Glorfindel and a few others), Penny made a point of trying to set the record straight.

"He is my guardian, Bilba, and yes, he has become a good friend, I will admit."

Bilbo nodded and said nothing, but he drank his tea in thoughtful silence for some minutes before changing the subject entirely and asking her to read some poetry out to him while he dozed.

She was not sure if she was worried that if they could read it that way then Halladan might do the same and become cold and withdrawn once more or… Actually, she tried not to consider the other possibility – that he knew perfectly well how it was being seen because that was precisely his intention behind it all.

Halladan suggesting they go riding every day for an hour or two or for a walk in the gardens together after lunch was wonderful and she tried desperately to see it as 'just friends', willing herself to think that way (if only for her own sake so she would not embarrass herself), but there was something else that mulled over this change in heart and character from him. He would offer his hand to help her from the saddle every time they came back to the stables, a soft smile on his face, his expression tender, and Penny tried her damnedest to not notice, to read it as anything other than what it most obviously had to be, but she kept coming back to the same answer.

It was so hard not to react to it, not to feel that thrill and warmth inside her every time he looked at her in that way, but her head was yelling, screaming, shouting, and it got to the point where she was actually for the first time secretly hoping that he would leave soon, but even after five days there was no sign that he was going anywhere. She was torn – torn between the feelings she had for him and as a consequence (for perhaps entirely selfish reasons) wanting to be in his company, to have him focus his attention on her in a way that hinted at something more, while on the other hand knowing that it could never be, both for the reasons that Mireth had outlined would be Halladan's point of view of it all, as well as her own decision as to why she should never marry even if she loved someone.

And God, how she loved him - so much it hurt to think about sometimes - and him behaving like this was really not helping.

It was the sixth day of his visit. They had been out for a ride before lunch and it had started to rain just as they came back to the halls. They stabled their horses and then ran for the nearest door, laughing loudly, Halladan holding her hand and pulling her behind him. As they gained the safety of being inside out of the wet they paused, breathing hard and still giggling and chuckling. Penny swept the hood of her cloak back and shook out her hair a little. Then, realising her hair tie – the one Halladan had made and which she still wore every day – was coming loose, she pulled at it, putting the wooden stick in her teeth as she pulled back some of her hair before covering it with the leather piece.

Halladan, slowly pushing back his own hood, watched her, his expression unreadable. Penny, as she shoved the stick through the leather, glanced up to find him watching her. She smiled.

"Shall we go for a walk after the midday meal?" he asked.

"In this weather?" She laughed.

"Oh, it is only a brief shower," he replied, glancing out through the still open door. "It will pass quickly enough." He paused. "There… is something I wish to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

But he would say nothing further other than that he had better head up to his room to hang up his cloak and change his boots before lunch.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Before the lynching starts, I would just like to add that the next chapter is with the betas and I hope to have it posted soon. Honest!

Meanwhile: thank you to everyone who commented on the last chapter and to everyone reading and reccing the fic - it's always much appreciated! - hugs


	59. So It Ends

**Chapter 59** – _"So It Ends"_

Halladan was quieter than usual on their walk, Penny noted. He had that look about him that she now recognised as meaning he had something on his mind. This, coming on top of the growing sense of unease she had felt over the past day or two, only served to make her feel somewhat awkward and uncomfortable, so she too was silent for a while.

Eventually, she started to do anything to distract them both – asking what bird it was that they could hear singing, or trying to test her knowledge of plants by saying the names of those she thought she recognised. Halladan leapt on this tactic with ready enthusiasm, chattering about flora and fauna as if silence would only mean he would have to broach whatever topic it was that was really on his mind.

At last, after an hour's walking in a gentle arc through the trees round the southern edge of the halls, they came across a bench and sat for a while, admiring the scene and listening to the birdsong. It was some minutes before Halladan finally spoke and when he did so he did not look at her, or only half-glanced quickly in her direction every now and then.

"Pen-ii," he began hesitantly, "I… I have something to discuss with you. It is something that I have thought about most seriously for quite some time but now I feel that…er…"

As he cleared his throat Penny wondered why she felt a strange sort of sinking feeling.

"Pen-ii, you have, I hope, got to know me well over the past several months. You have, again I would hope, formed a good opinion of me and my character, as I have of you. I, ah…" He sighed slightly, searching for the words. "I am not sure I can ever properly thank you for the friendship that we have shared and which I value highly. When I was ill… I do not know how many women outside of the Dunedain would have been quite as… stubborn and understanding as you were. You helped me greatly, even if it was against my better judgement at first, and I am beholden to you for it. In return I hope that, perhaps in some small way, I have provided a means for you to unburden yourself and come to terms with your grief and loss."

He cleared his throat once more and glanced sideways at her; and the more he talked and the more uncomfortable he seemed to get, the more Penny felt a cold and tight knot of tension and something even close to panic forming within her stomach as she it slowly dawned on her what this might well be inevitably leading up to.

"Let me be frank, Pen-ii. I am not the man I used to be. No, do not interrupt! I… I have to say this. It is the truth. You know well enough what I experienced in the south and what it did to me, what… scars I was left with. I am better, yes, but it may be I will never be wholly well. Oh, I do not doubt that Faelon and others have spoken well of my progress to you but…" He was struggling once more. "There are still moments when… I do not say this to alarm you, only to explain... Oh, I could care for a wife, look after her, but this leg is weak and always will be. This winter it has pained me at times."

He glanced at her and mistook the expression on her face which was actually due to her shock and growing distress at what he was talking about as she began to suddenly make sense of his behaviour all that day.

"I did not tell you because I did not want you to worry about me," he admitted, "but it is the truth. And there are times at night when… I wake myself up with shouting. Only once or twice in truth," he added hurriedly, "but even so, any woman who… any woman who I might consider as a wife would have to be aware of such things."

'Oh God. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. No. No, no, no, no, please do not do this. _Please_, I'm begging you, Halladan, PLEASE…'

"Halla—"

"Pen-ii, please. Let me finish. I am, in all truth, a broken man, and as such I fear I am not wholly fit for marriage, no matter my lineage or my race. A true husband is one who does not have to carry a stick with him just in case, who never has to worry his leg might fail him should he have to protect his family…"

For a moment he was speaking with true bitterness in his voice and it hurt Penny terribly to hear him talk this way, nearly as much as the whole scenario was tearing her apart.

"…He is not one who wakes in the night weeping like a child, visions of…" He pulled himself short. Another flickered glance in her direction. "Forgive me. You… you take my point." Another cough. "As regards you, Pen-ii, then you yourself admit that you have much to learn, though indeed you have learnt much. You are unskilled in many matters, I know, but I could teach you where perhaps another man could not or indeed would not, not seeing why he should take the time to do so."

"Halladan, pl—"

"Pen-ii, I am only trying to be honest! It is my nature. You know that. We need to accept that neither of us would find it easy to find others willing to marry us. You need someone who knows you well to look after you and guide you, who knows your history, who not only understands where you might be weakest but is willing to help with matters that normally would be entirely a woman's domain. And I, er, ahem, I think it would be unfortunate were we to live our lives alone when we enjoy each other's company…"

"Hal—"

It was so quiet that he did not hear her, nor realise she was weeping.

"… so much and consider each other friends. I think we might be able to make a reasonable life together, perhaps, in our own way, do you not? What say you, Pen-ii? Would y—?"

Only now did he turn to her fully at last, and only now did he look at her properly and realise she was in obvious distress. It stopped him dead in his tracks mid-sentence.

For her part Penny almost felt as if she was in physical pain. This was the worst possible thing to have happened. It had been one thing for her to plan and decide and accept her fate in her head, but she had never for a moment dreamt that Halladan would propose. She realised now that this was what she had feared might be coming over these last few days, and to have the man she loved so desperately, cared for so much, had worried about and thought about almost since the day she had met him, to have him sitting next to her about to ask her to be his, something that would in any other circumstances have filled her with so much joy… and yet have no choice but to refuse – it was heartbreaking, pure and simple.

She was upset, and hurt, and angry, so, so, angry at fate and circumstance which had meant things had come to this. And she was angry with Halladan too for having made such a piss-poor hash of it, without even telling her he loved her, without even telling her he thought about her or how he felt about her. He had made it sound like 'we're two broken, ugly ducklings who will never find anything better than each other so I guess we had better make do with that' which just infuriated her, even though at the same time it made no odds what he had said or how he had said it and oh God, damn and bugger it _why_ did he have to look at her like that?

For a moment they held each other's gaze: Penny beyond upset and in a turmoil of emotions, Halladan in something akin to shock at witnessing a reaction from her that he had not anticipated in the least.

"I am sorry," she whispered, tears streaming down her face, shaking her head gently. "I am so, so sorry…"

His face changed slowly. It hardened slightly and it was as if he swallowed something deep down into himself.

"May I ask why?" he said, his voice taut.

She looked down at her hands, struggling to rein in the tears with little success.

"I decided some time ago that I would never marry anyone, Halladan. I cannot." She looked up and the stony, cold expression on his face nearly shattered what little was left of her composure. "Gandalf could not promise me that I would never return home. If I were to marry, perhaps even to have children, and then one day disappear…? I could not do that to someone, to _anyone_ I cared for, Halladan. I _will_ not." She paused and the silence was almost unbearable. She tried to choose the best, most appropriate sounding phrases, to somehow conform to whatever etiquette might be required in such a situation. "I am most honoured that you would—"

But even as she spoke he stood up and spoke over the top of her.

"Very well, then. It seems that there is little more to discuss." His voice sounded strained and Penny realised, with a shock, that he seemed angry. "Forgive me if I have embarrassed you in any way, Pen-ii."

"Embarr…? No!"

"I will forever remain your guardian and your friend."

Then he inclined his head stiffly just once and then stalked off through the trees towards the halls while Penny stared after him, bewildered.

She kept staring at the place amongst the trees where she had last seen his retreating back long after he was lost from view. For many long minutes she could barely even begin to process what had just happened. She felt everything and nothing at the same time. She felt numb, and yet it was only because there was so much to feel and think all at once that she did not know which to choose first, which to let loose, since everything wanted to surge forward in one great rush. She teetered, wavering on the brink, like some child lost at sea on the crest of a wave or like someone with the wind knocked out of them, unable to catch their breath and just waiting for that moment when at last they can gasp and choke and retch. And then it came. At last she broke, nearly collapsing forward into her hands as she sobbed and cried like there was no tomorrow.

She was little aware as she wept of how Halladan, torn between humiliation, anger and, yes, some hurt, stormed back to the halls to find Arvain waiting for him since he, of course, knew of Halladan's intentions and had even been told that this afternoon would be The Moment. She could not know that Lindir was with Arvain, the two talking low, and that it was clear from Lindir's broad smile as he saw Halladan that Arvain had not been able to keep his mouth shut. Penny knew nothing of Halladan's clipped, barking tone to Arvain as he announced curtly that they were leaving on the morrow and, when Arvain hesitated in bewilderment, Halladan just kept on walking towards the buildings, saying that if Arvain chose to stay that was his own affair, but he would leave at dawn or soon after. Nor could she see Arvain chase after him, halt him and ask what in Arda had occurred, nor Halladan's brief, strained, "She refused me," by way of reply.

Only later would she hear of Arvain's astonished response to Lindir's concerned questioning, how Lindir had sent Arvain after Halladan while he sought out Mireth since it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong, something entirely contrary to everyone's expectations and that, whatever illogical or unreasonable reasons Penny might have had for doing what she had done, it had long been clear to all that she loved Halladan deeply and would thus be in something of a state right now.

For Penny, back amongst the trees, even when the tears could come no more she sat, lost, bereft and utterly distraught on the bench, staring at nothing, unable to think but with already a cold, creeping doubt deep within her gut that she had just made the biggest mistake of her life. She was in so much pain and confusion her head was spinning. It had made sense, seemed so clear to her all this time, but when faced with him actually… not that he had actually got to the point of… and he had never said that he truly… but now, oh bloody buggering hell, NOW… now it seemed like her entire world had caved in on itself.

Arvain, Lindir and Mireth briefly held a council of war on what had transpired. Arvain had managed to get very little out of Halladan beyond the fact that she had rejected his proposal since she had decided to never marry. Arvain seemed to feel that Halladan perhaps saw it was some sort of elegant excuse or contrivance to let him down gently – that she was actually rejecting him personally, rather than marriage as a whole, though Arvain could not be sure. Apparently Halladan was furious to the point of barely speaking, even to his own brother, and was currently busily flinging things into his pack in readiness to leave as soon as possible.

Arvain also briefly explained that when he had met Halladan in the wild some weeks ago, just prior to Halladan's previous visit to Imladris and the first Arvain had seen of him since the Mettarë celebrations, Halladan had finally opened his heart to him, saying he had spoken at length to Elrond about his turmoil, how he was having difficulty reconciling the feelings he had for Penny with his role as guardian and especially with his sworn promise to a dying Halbarad that he would act in his stead. Just as Mireth had suspected, Halladan had seen his role as that of brother or father and had been shocked if not appalled to realise he felt something entirely different. Needless to say, Elrond had set him straight, making it clear that all Halbarad had ever wanted was for Penny to be protected and cared for, and that Halladan could do that just as well if not better as her husband rather than as a mere guardian.

Still he had prevaricated and wavered, explaining it all to Arvain in the dark of some wooded glade as they cooked a frugal meal together. Arvain had told him, gently if frankly, that he was an ass. Halladan had not taken kindly to it, but the next morning before they parted, Arvain had then made the point that Halladan had best think long and hard how he would feel if he chose not to pursue Penny but instead allowed her to be married off to someone else since, as Arvain pointed out, she could not stay unmarried without it causing comment. How would he feel, he had asked him, at the thought of another man caring for her, loving her, kissing her, even, to be blunt, taking her to his bed?

That Arvain was more than likely speaking from his own bitter experience with Hisaeleth might well have made Halladan take his words to heart, but whatever the case, the next Arvain had known he was getting a message from Halladan to meet him at their home where Halladan announced he had taken his brother's and Elrond's advice to heart after having paid Penny one more visit in the meantime to assess the true strength of his feelings for her now that he had laid them bare to others. From there they had ridden together straight to Imladris.

Except _now _Penny had thrown it all back in his face, and by all accounts he was not taking it at all well.

Mireth said she would go and search for Penny. Lindir and Arvain offered to come with her, but she said no, better she went to find her alone.

"Just keep an eye out for her in case she returns before I can find her."

Dusk was drawing in by the time Mireth spotted her, shivering slightly though she little realised it and still sitting in the same position as when Halladan had left. She did not hear Mireth arrive, indeed she barely registered Mireth taking her hand once she had sat down next to her.

"Ai, Pen-ii," Mireth breathed gently. "What have you done?"

Penny turned to her then, chin wobbling, eyes brimming once more, the pain and distress clearly written in her face. Mireth wrapped a shawl that she had brought with her round Penny's shoulders and then hugged Penny to her chest, resting her chin on Penny's head. Penny simply let herself be held. There were no tears save one or two. She had cried herself out for now.

"Come. Let us get you back to the halls," Mireth said quietly.

"Mireth…" Penny's look was almost pleading.

"I know. Tell me all about it once we are in the warm."

Mireth took Penny to her room, nodding to Lindir whom she spotted loitering outside a different entrance to the one she used to indicate he could now stand down.

It was dark by the time they got there, Penny sitting dumbly on the bed while Mireth set a fire in the grate. Once it was ablaze, Mireth insisted Penny come and sit on the small rug in front of it with her to warm herself while she told her exactly what had happened. Mireth did not interrupt once as Penny spoke, only listened silently, sometimes shaking her head and sighing slightly perhaps, but otherwise letting Penny get everything out of her system, starting with the decision she had made so long ago and the full reasoning behind it, let alone how it applied to Halladan in particular, before she moved on to the specifics of the proposal itself and the events leading up to it.

"Ai, Pen-ii," Mireth said softly at last. "Did Mithrandir not tell you to live your life as if you were to stay here forever?"

"But he could not say for certain that I would not—"

"And yet in spite of that fact even he, a Maia, greater and wiser than any elf, gave you clear advice that you then chose to ignore."

It was an admonishment but a gentle one - a friend speaking to a friend who has acted unwisely in their estimation. Penny said nothing, though her eyes filled with tears once again as she looked down at her hands, twisting them in her lap. She knew Mireth was right.

"But more than that, Pen-ii, did you forget what Arwen said to you before we left Rohan, when she bade you farewell? You told me of it yourself later. Do you not remember?"

Penny looked at her, confusion but also the hint of slowly dawning understanding in her eyes.

Oh God… She _had_ forgotten. She had _entirely_ forgotten Arwen's words to her that day, indeed had never stopped to consider their import, had not even realised they had any.

"She told me she had had some foresight about you," Mireth explained, keeping her voice as soft, gentle and tender as possible so as to try and ease the pain of what she was about to say, "though she did not tell me what it was nor what it related to, only that you would face a choice in the coming months once you returned here and that she hoped you would choose wisely." She took Penny's hand in hers, her face full of pity. "Only now that this has happened do I realise the import of her words to you that day. Only now do I realise that this must have been the moment to which she was referring."

Penny's mouth had gone dry. She could not swallow, but she felt like she was sinking somewhere deep and dark, air rushing past her ears.

"_You cannot dictate where love will fall, and to deny it is bitterness indeed_…"Arwen's words now echoed round her head. "_I hope you might know such a love one day. And it may be you will remember my choice then and understand it that much better: that there are times when you have to accept what fate has decreed shall be, rather than choose the path which, for all it might seem it would cause others less pain, would leave you bereft for all your days and cause those who love you perhaps more pain in seeing you suffer so_."

How could she have been so stupid?! How could she not have seen, not understood…?! And now it was all gone, all over! She had had her chance and she had blown it utterly!

Penny wept bitterly into her hands and all the while Mireth held her gently.

At long last the wave of self-recrimination, despair and distress subsided and Mireth let Penny sit back a little.

"He will not ask me a second time, will he?" Penny said at last, quietly, staring downwards and looking utterly dejected.

Mireth did not respond, not knowing how best to make a diplomatic reply more palatable given Penny's current state, and that in itself was answer enough for Penny, who felt it like a physical blow to her chest.

"I love him so much."

"I know you do."

Mireth smoothed Penny's hair away from her face. Her expression was one of sadness, sympathy and perhaps a little regret on Penny's behalf.

"I only thought to…"

"I know."

Penny looked up at her. "What do I do?"

She looked utterly lost and helpless in that moment.

"First, get some rest as best you can. I will go and talk to Arvain and Lindir to at least explain matters better. No, no, do not fear. They are the only ones that know. Rest assured this is not something that all of Imladris is gossiping about. No one knows and it will remain that way. Come. Up you get." She had stood and now held out a hand for Penny. "Lie on the bed a while and calm yourself a little. If you can sleep it will do you good. There we are. Now, wait here and I will return presently, I promise."

Penny meekly obeyed, and Mireth left her staring at the wall, bereft and utterly disconsolate.

Mireth went straight to Halladan's room where she knew she would find Arvain and Lindir. Both were standing awkward and silent, watching as Halladan slowly and deliberately packed. It was Arvain who had told her to come in when she had knocked, and even once she had entered and closed the door Halladan merely glanced up to see who it might be and then went back to what he was doing without greeting her, his actions jerky with barely contained anger.

"How is she?"

It was Lindir who had asked, and Mireth turned to him. "Distraught," she said simply. She looked calmly at Halladan. "Halladan, may I talk with you?"

Halladan, not missing a beat as he shoved a spare tunic into his pack, replied tersely, "By all means, Mireth."

She crossed over to him and laid a hand gently on his forearm, bringing his movements to a stop, though he did not look up at her.

"Halladan, did you listen to what she said to you? Did you hear why she refused you? I knew nothing of it, but it appears she made this decision some time ago, has been trying to convince herself that it was what was best, though every part of her being was rebelling against it."

Still he did not look at her. Still she kept her hand on his arm.

"She said enough, Mireth. It took much for me to bring myself to the point of—"

"I know. I told her as much when you left us as we travelled north. I could guess then the nature of your feelings and why you had reacted as you did after your… moment by the spring."

Only now did his head lift sharply to look at her, something close to alarm and certainly guilt in his eye. Mireth smiled and almost chuckled.

"Oh, come, Halladan. Did you really not realise your feelings for her before then? Arvain and Lindir here could tell you they saw it in you long before. Do you realise that she was upset and worried that she had offended you in some way when you behaved as you did?"

"I know." He looked down and turned away slightly, seemingly a little ashamed. "I guessed as much. But how else could I…? Oh, this is meaningless, Mireth! Why go back over all of this?"

"Because as much as she has tried to see things from your standpoint and, indeed, accepted them, you have to see them from hers also. Her understanding and accepting of your view of guardianship, let alone her own sense of inferiority within our society… it fed into the decision she made – can you not see that? She felt she would make a terrible wife to any man who asked her, to any man who might expect many things of her that she is only just beginning to learn. It never occurred to her you would propose, Halladan. You took her entirely by surprise today."

"You cannot be serious?" Arvain was incredulous and even Lindir had both eyebrows lifted in astonishment.

"She had convinced herself that Halladan," Mireth replied, glancing over her shoulder towards him briefly, "as a man of such a strict sense of honour and propriety, would never get over that barrier, and while part of her desperately wanted it to be otherwise, she forced herself over time to accept it, come to terms with it and indeed to find a reason why she herself could never come to him or anyone else."

"Halladan said something about her fearing she would return home," Lindir said quietly, and Halladan made a sort of snorting sound.

"Gandalf himself told her how to deal with that," Arvain interrupted. "He said she should—"

"He was also not able to guarantee she would never leave, Arvain. For her that was the important point."

"Important be damned, Mireth! If a Maia advises you, then you should act upon it!"

"I know, Arvain, I know. Not only that but Arwen advised her also," she added quietly. "Pen-ii had not realised the import of what she said, perhaps, indeed I think she had forgotten Arwen's words to her entirely until I reminded her just now."

Mireth glanced sideways and caught Lindir's eye as he looked at her quizzically. He understood the inference immediately, his expression changing to one of interest and surprise.

Halladan was now sitting on his bed, staring furiously at the floorboards, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Mireth," he said with a tone that was polite but firm, "with all due respect, I do not see what purpose this serves. She should not have to reject the advice of one as wise as Gandalf himself if she does not want me as a husband. I know… I am not well, that I am not the man I used to be…"

"Halladan! How can you say such a thing?!"

Mireth had been shocked and was cross now. Lindir and Arvain looked at her in surprise at her tone.

"That is not true, and Pen-ii would never think any such a thing of you or any man who had suffered as you have! She told me you said something similar to her when you were trying to propose, and she was very upset by it, Halladan, as am I!"

She softened then and moved his pack to one side so she could sit beside him. "Ai, Halladan, can you not see? She left behind her a family and friends, has grieved long not simply over her own loss but over _theirs_. That they have been bereft of her, suddenly and inexplicably, has long distressed her and plagued her dreams. I have sat with her night after night, knowing full well with whom she walked and how."

She paused. "When I explained to her the reasoning behind your behaviour with her that time as best I could fathom it, it made her stop and take stock of how she intended to move forward, how she intended to live her life, and it seems, she decided she could never again willingly put anyone else through what her family have gone through. She was not prepared to take the risk, even though she well understood it might never happen. Halladan, think! She has carried guilt over her foresight for months, has seen dead men walking and known there was nothing she could do. She has wept over every blow, every trauma, loss and upset that this War has caused, let alone its aftereffects here in the north, and felt herself in part responsible no matter who told her she should feel no such thing. You _know_ that! We all in this room know it! How then could she choose a path that might lead to yet more heartache and distress? To suddenly be wrenched away from a man she loved, from children, should she have any, to leave them grieving and knowing she would likely never come back to them so it would be as if she were dead to them?

"And you, Halladan, you whom she loves so very much, how could she knowingly risk placing you in such a situation when she knows only too well how much you have lost already and how it has affected you? She has worried for you for so long, not out of pity, but I believe, because her heart turned towards you from the first. As she herself has just said to me, sobbing as if her heart were breaking, which, indeed, it probably is, you have lost a mother, a father and a brother – how then would it be if you lost a wife, also, if you were placed in the same position as your father was and bringing up children all alone in your grief?"

Mireth could see she was getting through to him. His face was stony, set, still staring at the floor, but there was something in his eyes that indicated the inner turmoil. She had said enough. She stood and, turning to leave, saw that even Arvain had been moved.

"Forgive me, Arvain," she said quietly and then, looking back towards his brother, "Halladan. I only wanted you to know that while, yes, she chose unwisely, she did not choose unthinkingly and without it causing her a great deal of pain."

She walked over to the door but then, her hand on the handle, paused and turned back once more.

"Oh, and Halladan?" Her tone changed subtly, to something lighter and almost amused. "It would do well in future, if you seek a lady's hand, to at least tell her how you feel about her, that you care for her, perhaps even that you love her. To make it seem like a mere contractual arrangement between friends who would both make poor spouses but together might find some sort of companionship through their otherwise dark futures, is hardly the way to sway a lady's heart over her head."

Arvain looked at his brother open-mouthed and shook his head.

"My brother the romantic," he muttered sarcastically.

"This coming from a man who cannot even admit the feelings he has for a woman, let alone profess them to her himself?" Mireth retorted.

Lindir chuckled hugely while Arvain, flushing, glared at him while Mireth slipped out of the room and went down to the kitchens to make a hot herbal drink for Penny that would calm her and raise her spirits a little.

When she came back to Penny's room, Penny had fallen asleep through sheer emotional exhaustion. She drew a chair beside the bed and sat, reading a book of Dunedain ballads Erestor had lent Penny a few days earlier. After a little while Penny awoke and dutifully drank her herbal concoction. The supper bell rang, but Penny said she was not hungry and would not go down to eat.

"Do you want me to bring some food to your room?"

Penny shook her head.

"Thank you, Mireth, but no. It would only go to waste. If I feel hungry later I will go to the kitchens and find something for myself. You go. Please."

But Mireth refused, saying she would keep her company and began to talk about anything other than love, the Dunedain or Halladan in particular. Penny did her best to listen and respond, but in reality she was barely listening. Mireth knew this well enough but talked on regardless. Then after some time, she suggested they go down to the Hall of Fire, if only for a little while. Penny balked at the idea.

"Oh, no, no, Mireth, I could not!"

"I think you should, Pen-ii. If you do not, there might be talk, especially if it is realised you were not at supper."

"But he might be there. What would I say to him? Please, Mireth, I really do not think I could bear it."

"You do not have to speak to him, but I think you should know…" She paused and sighed.

"What? What is it?"

"He is leaving on the morrow. He is already packed and ready."

Penny stared at her, her face stricken, for a moment before she nodded, her gaze meandering downward.

"Of course. Yes, of course. Why should he stay?" she murmured to herself, her tone flat and resigned rather than bitter.

"I presume Arvain will be leaving with him. Would you not like to see him at least before he goes? I think it would also do you good to be in company a little, if only to sit quietly and listen to the song. As I say, if you do not, I know it will cause comment and that would not do. If he is there, then… well, then you behave as calmly and as courteously as you can manage. He is your guardian despite all that has happened, and he will be conscious of that and always treat you well and with respect even if things are currently difficult between you."

Penny could see there was no refusing Mireth, and so she washed her face and brushed her hair before letting herself be taken down to the Hall of Fire.

It was, frankly, the last place she wanted to be. She sat back from the company, Mireth beside her, wondering when she could reasonably escape back to the sanctuary of her room once more. Arvain and Halladan were there but on the far side of the room. Arvain had spotted her and nodded, smilingly, as she had sat down, but Halladan was barely visible in the dark shadows, brooding and suffering to be there only because it was his last night and it was duly expected that he be sociable to an extent. Thus the pair of them had various elves coming to them to bid them farewell and wonder at the sudden decision to leave.

As she watched them Penny felt numb once more. Somehow she suspected it would only really hit her once he had left and it had had time to sink in.

Lindir came to join her and Mireth briefly, sitting on the other side of Penny and not saying a word, but giving her a look and squeezing her hand. It very nearly set her off into tears, but she manfully controlled herself.

Mireth had gone to fetch a drink for herself and Penny, and Lindir had since left them to have a long and involved discussion with Bilbo and Erestor about poetic and musical meter. It was well over half an hour since she had first arrived, and Penny yet again found her gaze wandering back to the far side of the room only to see Arvain saying something to his brother and Halladan responding with a curt nod and then rising to his feet to follow Arvain. It took a moment for Penny to realise they were actually crossing the room towards her. It was very definitely Arvain leading, however, with Halladan not exactly hovering behind him, but certainly serious, straight-faced and looking nowhere in particular (or in any direction but towards her to be more exact). It was as if he were headed towards anyone, and someone he was entirely apathetic towards at that, not the woman that only hours before he had very nearly sort of proposed to.

For a moment Penny panicked, wondering what on earth she would say, but before she knew it Arvain had arrived and was speaking.

"Good evening, Pen-ii."

He immediately put her at her ease by seeming quite sympathetic in his tone, though perhaps slightly hesitant as if not quite sure how best to address her. He seemed to working hard to try and make it seem 'just as usual', though, and Penny was grateful for that.

"I am sure Mireth has told you," he continued, "that we are leaving on the morrow."

"Yes." Penny nodded, noting that Halladan was still very firmly looking at something over to his right. "Yes, she said."

"We are not sure when we will next return, whether we will be able to visit before the wedding…"

Penny furrowed her brow in surprise – the wedding was not for another couple of months yet.

"…though we will certainly try." He glanced quickly at Halladan. "I will certainly try. I am not sure what Halladan's plans are."

Penny dropped her gaze and just nodded dumbly in understanding. Thus she did not see the hard look Arvain gave his brother and the slight inclination of the head towards Penny suggesting that he should take his turn to speak. Halladan seemed at an utter loss as to what to say, however, and briefly the stern, serious mask wavered to reveal someone thoroughly ill at ease. As Penny suddenly looked up at him, though, the mask returned and expression became almost cold once more.

"Halladan, I… I want to apologise if I have offended you in any way. I never meant to—"

"No apologies are necessary, Pen-ii," he replied curtly. "Let us… leave things as they stand." Abruptly he turned to Arvain. "I will see you later, Arvain. I need to check over my supplies and see that everything is in order for tomorrow."

And so saying he left the room.

There were several long moments of awkward silence between Arvain and Penny then, she trying to swallow back the tears that were threatening and he not having the faintest idea what to say.

"Pen-ii," he said at last, stepping towards her and crouching beside her, "Pen-ii, I am sorry that things did not go otherwise between you…"

"Is he truly very angry?" She looked at him, the distress clear in her face. "Tell me honestly, Arvain."

There was a pause before Arvain finally looked down briefly and then back up.

"Yes."

A wave of emotion rolled over Penny and her eyes lifted up to the ceiling in an effort to keep under control.

"Give him time, Pen-ii. With time he will—"

"I want you to promise me something, Arvain."

She reached out for his hand and he took it.

"Anything, Pen-ii."

She looked at him once more, in deadly earnest.

"Do not make the same mistake Halladan and I have made. Go and talk to her. Tell her how you feel." She could feel he was trying to gently extricate himself from her handhold but she would not let go. Not yet. Not until she had said what she wanted to say. She could see from the expression on his face she had caught him utterly by surprise. "She will not believe you at first, I am sure of it, but tell her, Arvain, insist upon it. Please. Promise me you will."

He finally took his hand away and rose to his feet hurriedly, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

"I… I-I, er…"

She decided to put him out of his misery.

"Do not trouble yourself, Arvain, you do not need to reply. I am leaving. I did not want to be here. I only came down at Mireth's insistence that it would start talk if I did not, having not come for supper either. Forgive me if I have broached a subject you would rather no one spoke of, but at least think about what I have said. Good night."

And so saying she too left to spend a sleepless and very sorry night in bed.

The next morning she did appear at breakfast. It was early, but even so she was worried she might have missed Arvain and Halladan's departure. She was relieved, therefore, when Arvain came to sit opposite her only a few minutes after she had settled herself next to Bilbo who was already pouring out her a morning cuppa.

"Halladan not with you?" Bilbo asked Arvain in all innocence. Penny studiously studied the milk jug.

"I will take him something. He is busy at the stables." Arvain turned to Penny. "What are your plans after breakfast? We will come and say our farewells to you properly."

She wondered if it would be much the same as last night, with Halladan tagging along out of duty. If so she was not sure she wanted him to bother.

She had promised Mireth she would help preparing some dyes for wool, she explained. They could find her in one of the small rooms next to the sewing room where a crop of berries had been hung up to dry after being harvested a couple of weeks earlier. She would be picking and grinding the berries so they could then be mixed with water to make a dye when needed. It was a job she had done before and was simple enough that she could be left to get on with it by herself, though Mireth would probably come and help her later on.

Arvain grabbed a hunk of bread and some fruit and said he would see her there.

As she worked after breakfast, cutting down bunches of berries onto the large work bench and slowly pulling the berries off into a large marble mortar, Penny screwed herself up to the effort of facing Halladan once more. Sure enough, she had not been long at her work when a knock sounded on the door that lead directly out into the gardens and, when she said 'come in,' Arvain peered round with his customary grin. At least he had succeeded in not holding a grudge about her direct allusion to Hisaeleth the previous evening, for which Penny was truly grateful to him.

Just as the night before, it was Arvain who spoke, Halladan hanging back slightly, stiff with awkwardness. Arvain wished her well, chattered about how the next time they came it might well be to take her with them to Morfinniel's, how she was to take care of herself and not worry about them in the least. He gave her a warm hug, to which she responded in kind, and then, glancing at his brother, announced that he would 'see Halladan there' and left before Penny even realised what he was doing.

It had clearly taken Halladan by surprise also, because for a split second he gawped after his brother and then looked back round to Penny with an appearance not too dissimilar to that of a rabbit caught in headlights. Then he coughed slightly and pulled himself together.

"I am not sure I can add much more to that which Arvain has already said." He could not look her in the eye, his gaze skittering around in the vague direction of her face, round it and then back to the floor before starting the whole meandering route once more. "I, um…"

God, it was so painful to have it like this; to know how it had been, how it might have been, and yet for it to be now like this with him unable to look at her and barely able to speak.

"Fare you well, Halladan."

"And you, Pen-ii."

There followed another long, awkward pause with neither of them looking at each other before Halladan shuffled slightly.

"I had best join Arvain."

So saying, he headed for the door, but just as he got there, Penny blurted out his name and he turned to her.

"What you said yesterday…," she began, slowly, "It is not true. You would make any woman proud, Halladan, and you will make a fine husband."

Dammit, woman, now was not the time to start getting emotional. Get a bloody grip!

"May Elbereth protect you, Halladan. Please… take care of yourself."

Shit, damn and blast!

She turned away abruptly to the workbench, going to pick up a bunch of berries, but realising her hands were shaking slightly she instead opted for just standing there, leaning forward slightly on her palms and trying not to break down, determined that she would not cry in front of him, that he did not need to see that from her.

Behind her, Halladan was looking at her with regret in his eyes, admittedly with a bullish air about him but softened by the hint of a sad smile at one corner of his mouth just before he spoke.

"Thank you, Pen-ii."

And then he was gone.

He left the door open behind him, and the weak morning sun poured in, the patch on the floor just catching Penny as she stood stock still at the workbench, her hands now clenched into fists as she tried desperately to not succumb to the wave of emotions heaving through her. She wanted to howl, swear, break something or just collapse into a heap and hope the ground swallowed her up, but instead she did none of those things, just stood still and rode it out, angrily wiping away the few tears that fell in spite of her best efforts. No damn point in crying. No damn point at all. No one to blame but herself, and he was gone and that was an end to it.

How long she stood like this she was not sure. Perhaps only a minute, perhaps five, but suddenly she was aware of a shadow blocking the patch of sun from the doorway. She turned in surprise to see it was Halladan, a determined look on his face, and that he was striding towards her.

"Halladan?! Wh—?!"

But before she could even finish he had grabbed her by the shoulders and was kissing her hard. For half a second she was too surprised to even begin to register what had happened, but then almost in the same instant she was kissing him back, clinging to him, grateful and thankful and trying really hard not to think about how damn cliché this all was, even as one of his hands slid into her hair and the other slid down to her back.

He broke the kiss and looked down at her, still holding her tight, their noses all but touching as she stared up at him in breathless, speechless astonishment and undisguised delight.

"Now you listen to me," Halladan all but growled at her, though a smile was playing on his lips in spite of his tone. "I will not take no for an answer, do you hear me? Damn, but you are a stubborn woman, Pen-ii. Do you have any idea how you have tormented me these past few months? When I left you that first time I was determined as to the course I would take and yet… I could not stop thinking about you. I have not been able to stop thinking about you even from the day Father first told me about you! I stayed away because I knew that once I was with you, once I saw you once more… Ai, and I was proved right." Then he gave a half-chuckle suddenly. "Arvain called me an 'ass', did you know that? After I had talked with Elrond and still hesitated, I asked his advice and he called me an ass and more besides."

His gaze was raking all over her face, one hand reaching up to gently smooth a tendril of her hair away from her face, his thumb grazing against her cheekbone. There was a pause and then he slowly and deliberately bent to kiss her once more, tenderly this time, hesitating for a moment just before their lips met to look into her eyes while her stomach flipped and melted all at once.

After a few moments of slow tenderness it was now Penny's turn to pull away a little, suddenly worried.

"But what about—?"

"No, Pen-ii. I will not have it. Gandalf told you what you should do, and Lindir tells me Arwen had some foresight into this also. Arwen, Pen-ii! The Lady Undomiel herself! No, no, this was meant to be, and I will not have you try and talk me out of it."

"And if I do disappear?"

She was genuinely concerned he had not thought through all the possibilities.

"You will not."

"Halladan, I am serious."

"So am I. You cannot live on maybes and might-bes, Pen-ii. Fate will be as it has been decreed, and I truly believe that if the granddaughter of the Lady Galadriel herself, the daughter of Lord Elrond, my Queen, the wife of my Chieftain, King and kinsman, has had foresight about us, then we are blessed indeed. It may be that we will not have the rest of our lives together, yet if that is so then I would choose to enjoy what time we have together rather than regret what might have been but never came to aught. But I know, Pen-ii, that your fears are misplaced. Trust me."

He looked at her, holding her gaze and she smiled, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through her right at that moment.

"Ask me," she said.

He seemed amused.

"Ask me again," she insisted gently.

"Well, in truth I never really managed to ask you properly the first time."

"So ask me properly now, in that case."

He paused, smiling.

"Pen-ii Buy-karr, would you consent to be my wife?"

She was beaming.

"I would be honoured, Halladan son of Halbarad."

He grinned and then grabbed her with both arms round her waist, lifting her and spinning her round till she was laughing. Then he put her down and kissed her hard and quickly on the lips.

"You must have this," he said suddenly, reaching into his tunic and pulling out a silver ring on a chain. He took the chain off over his head then unclasped it, pulling at the ring. Then he took her right hand and slid it onto her ring finger. "It was my mother's," he explained. "I went home to fetch it after last I left Imladris."

Again the exchange of slow, warm smiles, breaking into grins when no words would come. Then Penny had a sudden thought.

"But I should give you a ring in return, no?"

"Well, strictly speaking, perhaps, Pen-ii, but it is of no—""

"But I have one! This one which Meresel gave me!" So saying she pulled it off the forefinger of her left hand and handed it to him. "Would this do?"

"It would do very well," he said, smiling broadly in pleasure.

"I do not know if it will fit…"

"No, it is too small, I think, even for my little finger. Unless…" He tried it on his right hand. "No. But it is of no consequence, I will wear it on this chain. That is enough and will serve its purpose. Where you wear the ring is immaterial, it is the exchange of rings that is the formality." He smiled as he fixed the chain round his neck, not bothering to tuck it into his tunic for now. "Thank you."

"No, Halladan," she said softly. "Thank you. I know I had no right to expect any of this." She looked down. "Nor did I expect it, in truth, though I immediately regretted my decision, even more so after Mireth spoke to me…"

"She spoke to me also." He took hold of her hand. "We owe her much."

"She has been a good friend to me."

"We shall give her a rich gift for her wedding. I shall find something suitable and it shall be from both of us."

Penny's smile was ridiculously huge at that, for all sorts of reasons.

"I would like that," she said.

"Then it shall be done," he said with a mock-formal incline of his head, and she laughed.

There was a pause. Neither of them could stop smiling.

"I have to go," he said at last, albeit reluctantly.

"You still intend to leave?" she asked, surprised.

"Everything is prepared, Pen-ii. Arvain is waiting for me, the horses… Besides," he added, taking hold of her round the waist once more and pulling her to him, "the sooner I leave, the sooner I can return, no?"

There was a rakish playfulness about his grin this time that Penny was not sure she had ever seen before. But she liked it.

"That is very true," she conceded, biting at her lip and looking up at him through her eyelashes.

There was one more kiss then, slow, tender but all too brief. He broke away.

"I really must go."

She nodded, smiling, trying not to grin again.

"I will return as soon as I can."

She nodded once more, her would-be grin sliding around all over her teeth, the tip of her tongue wedged hard against one of her top front molars in an effort not to look like the proverbial Cheshire Cat.

"Stop it!" he scolded, still not moving.

"What?!" She said, laughingly. "I am not doing anything!"

When their eyes met they were still, smiling but serious, for a moment. She reached up, her hand cupping his cheek and for an instant she thought she might cry suddenly. Instead she leant upwards, almost on tip-toe, and gently pressed her lips against his. Then she came back to earth.

"Go," she said quietly. "Take Elbereth's blessing with you and keep yourself safe or you will hear from me."

He laughed and nodded, taking a step back, his hands sliding down to take hers in his own.

"Have you been massaging your leg?"

Now he rolled his eyes as well as laughed.

"Ai, is this how it will be?"

"Yes, it will be if you will not look after yourself!"

"I have not been, no, but I will. You have my word. Now… I _must_ go."

Their hands fell away and he walked back several more steps, still grinning. Then he was at the door, still wavering, still grinning and she was shaking her head at him, on the point of laughing. One final nod of the head by way of farewell and then he was gone, and she was still staring at the space where he had been, her face near split from ear to ear with pure pleasure, unable to quite believe what had just taken place though she could still feel the sensation of his hands against hers, of the surprising softness of his lips, the smell of pipesmoke still faint in the air about her.

And then she was running, flinging open the door to the corridor and running hard and fast, nearly bumping into Mireth twenty yards along who looked at her in astonishment, but Penny barely paused, only slowed a little and turned to her, almost skipping backwards, still grinning, and Mireth, understanding instantly what had happened, made a noise of joy and surprise even as Penny held out her hand and Mireth took it, joining her in running the length of Elrond's halls as they crossed to the far side and the main entrance where Arvain and Halladan were even now getting into their saddles.

She arrived, breathless and still beaming, at the top of the stairs just as he was turning the horse to head off down the path to the gates. He caught sight of her instantly and stopped, his face breaking into a smile. Arvain, just saying farewell to Lindir, Elrohir, Celebdor and one or two others who had come to see them off, caught sight of Halladan's expression, saw who he was staring at and noted Penny's wide grin, then glanced quickly back to Halladan and promptly leapt from his saddle to meet Penny even as she came down the steps. 'Bear hug' did not even begin to describe it. He nearly winded her he hugged her so tight.

"YES!" he shouted. "AT LAST! HA!"

And then he laughed loud and long, calling her sister and kissing her on the cheek.

Halladan, shaking his head at his brother, was acknowledging with a simple nod of the head the raised eyebrows and murmured congratulations from the elves. Then, as Arvain climbed into the saddle once more, Halladan urged his horse forward to Mireth to thank her for all she had done and then held out his hand for Penny's. She took it and he held her gaze as he squeezed it just once, never saying a word, before he turned his horse to follow Arvain who was already waving farewell and heading off down the path.

And even as Mireth put one arm about her shoulder and hugged Penny to her, Penny could not stop smiling as she watched Halladan go.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Contrary to what the chapter title might suggest, this is not the last chapter. Rather, I would refer readers to the title of Chapter 22. ;)

My thanks to all for holding off the lynching parties following the last chapter, lol – at least this one arrived quickly, as I promised, right?

Many thanks, as ever, to all who read and took time out to comment!


	60. Tying Up Loose Ends

**Chapter 60 **– _"Tying Up Loose Ends"_

So it was that Penny finally found her place within this strange new life within this strange new world. Rather than feel forever like a spare part within a seamless machine at Imladris, she would be with mortals who spanned that gap between the elves and other human races, who could best understand her both as a mortal but also in many of her more 'elvish' sensibilities.

More than that, she would not live some strangely unique existence as 'the mad old spinster in the woods,' but be married and to one who was well respected and liked. This would all serve her well.

There would be dark periods, of course – moments when homesickness would roar through her like a hurricane, leaving her distraught, distressed and often very depressed for days at a time and sometimes longer. Halladan was a patient man, gently coaxing her out of such blackness, better able to understand than many might, both given he knew her situation and history intimately and also because he had his own ghosts to lay to rest which would still haunt him at times. For her part Penny was a source of support for him, never once blaming him or regretting she had married a man who would still, even years later, sometimes wake from night terrors, though they diminished in number and severity as time went on.

Life with the Dunedain was not quite as easy as it had been amongst the elves. Almost as much work had to be divided amongst far fewer people living in far smaller communities - usually no more than a few houses within a mile or two of each other, hamlets at most - and there was always something to be done. Morfinniel and her daughters and son were most welcoming to Penny, just as Faelon had said they would be, and they taught her much. It was exhausting work, but also strangely exhilarating, Penny found, to be _doing_ things on a practical and daily basis. Armed with her notebooks and various gifts from the elves, Penny quickly realised they had taught her well and, while she still had much to learn, was not quite as out of her depth as she had feared.

Despite her fears, she never went "home," nor did she ever find out how or why she had come back in time. If Gandalf himself could not know, then how could she? She could only accept that it had happened and deal with it as best she could. If ever she thought about it, as would sometimes happen if ever she could not sleep at night during those times when dark homesickness would weigh heavily upon her, it gave her a headache trying to fathom it. As such it was a subject best deliberately avoided.

Gandalf himself did not return to Imladris until some weeks after Penny and Halladan had plighted their troth. Then he and Penny spoke at length about all that had taken place, about the Shire and Saruman, about how she had worried and kept silent. He chided her gently for not having taken his advice to heart, and when she looked curiously at him, surprised, he explained he had meant it specifically regarding Halladan and had hoped she would have recognised it as such when the moment came.

It seemed he too had had foresight regarding the pair of them, as far back as Gondor.

"It was then that I knew things had changed, that you were likely here to stay. You were - how shall I put it? – _here_, and as such I could see better what lay ahead of you. It was as if the mists had cleared for me. Even that time on the Pelennor… ah, do not look so surprised, Pen-ii. And how could I have told you? You know well enough yourself how not all that is known can be shared, or not before its time."

Nor was he surprised to learn Arwen had had some foresight also. She had inherited some of her grandmother's gift, he said, and had taken Penny and her plight very much to heart.

When spring was fully ripe, with bright sunny days and the air sweet with scented blooms, Mireth and Celebdor were married at last. Mireth looked truly radiant in her sumptuous dress, and Celebdor wore a tunic of dark green, trimmed with gold, a crown of flowers about his head.

Many Dunedain came to Imladris for the celebrations which, indeed, lasted several days. One or two had brought older offspring with them – teenage boys or young men on the edge of adulthood, the younger ones perhaps on their first trip out into the wilds with their fathers to learn the ranger skills that had been passed down from generation to generation. Two had brought their wives with them, both of whom had apparently insisted on coming, leaving their children with relatives, since they both had particular reason to hold Mireth in high esteem: one having had a child saved thanks to her skills as a healer, the other her own father.

Those who had not yet met Penny greeted her most courteously, and those who knew her from the travel north congratulated her on the betrothal, saying they were not in the least surprised, but rather were only amazed that it had taken Halladan as long as it had to 'get his courage up' because, so they said, it had been blatantly apparent to them all from early on that he had been somewhat taken with her.

As a wedding gift from himself and Penny, Halladan had brought an entire bolt of the best Dunadan fine linen with him – a rich gift indeed and one much appreciated by Mireth since while it was a material that the elves could make, it was a particular speciality of the Dunedain womenfolk and as such was highly prized, if only for use as bed sheets and the like.

As for Arvain, it took some time for him to finally sort himself with Hisaeleth. Even by the time of the wedding he had yet to call on Morfinniel and pay his respects because he could not face greeting her eldest daughter. It was not on, given the closeness of their two families, and Halladan was not the only one to take him to task for it. During the wedding celebrations, more than one Dunadan commented on it to him, though Faelon did go out of his way to say more than once that Morfinniel bore him no ill will and that Arvain was not to trouble himself. After all, Morfinniel understood how things were just as much as Faelon did, perhaps even more so given she possibly knew Hisaeleth even better than her husband since he was often away from home for long periods.

While Arvain was at Imladris for the wedding Penny, perhaps buoyed by a little too much wine and secure in the knowledge that she had Halladan to back her up, spoke her mind regarding it all, if gently. In later months Arvain himself said it had helped a little to hear the same thing said to him that others had said before but from a woman's viewpoint, though it was by no means the sole incentive. Even if she had already set him thinking during her earnest plea that night in the Hall of Fire, seeing Halladan and Penny so very nearly miss each other entirely would have been enough in itself, or so Arvain confessed to Halladan years later.

He came close to facing up to the situation on the ride to take Penny to Morfinniel. Arvain, Halladan, Faelon and Tadion had all taken it upon themselves to chaperone her, though Tadion separated off from them about a day's ride away from Faelon's home to go and see his mother. They left a week after the wedding and for the entire eight day trek Arvain had to suffer comments (from all but Faelon), subtle or unsubtle (in the case of Tadion), to the effect that he had best 'be a man' and stay the course all the way to Morfinniel's door. Even Penny muttered something about 'surely both guardians should see her delivered safely,' looking at Arvain with her best 'innocent' expression as she sat next to Halladan by the campfire, her head on his shoulder, arm about his waist and his around her shoulder. Even Faelon bit back a grin while Arvain sighed heavily and pretended he had heard nothing.

In spite of this (or perhaps because of it), he got cold feet in the last half mile, slowing to a stop while they were still in the cover of the trees and saying that he was sure Morfinniel would be cross he had not seen her sooner, that he really could not cope with her launching a frying pan at his head (though the laughter from Faelon and Halladan at this comment told Penny she was hardly the kind to do such a thing, or only ever in jest) and that the last thing that he wanted was to upset Penny's first day there. Then, before anyone could stop him, he turned his horse and headed off in the direction they had come, Penny staring in disbelief at his retreating back and Halladan roaring his name in undisguised frustration. Faelon quietened Halladan with a hand on his arm, telling him gently to just let him go if that was how he wanted it.

It took a little over a month (and after Halladan returning the favour and calling him an ass and more besides in no uncertain terms) before Arvain finally swallowed his pride and came to visit Morfinniel. The change in his behaviour towards Hisaeleth was immediately apparent – the feelings he had for her were made plain for all to see and he showed her nothing but generous tenderness and concern.

Just as Penny had predicted, though, Hisaeleth did not believe him at first, assuming it was the lead up to some pointless trick or means of laughing at her. However, Arvain persisted and refused to react to even the harshest of insults she could throw at him, which in itself amazed and stunned Hisaeleth into coming close to accepting the truth. It took time, but at last, hesitant and scared it still might entirely backfire on her, she said a kind word to him - and Arvain leapt on it as a sign and actually, physically danced a jig round the entire outside of Faelon's house till Hisaeleth was laughing and pleading with him to stop.

A year after Mireth and Celebdor married, it was the turn of Penny and Halladan. It was a traditional Dunedain ceremony, held locally, and though Mireth had supervised the making of Penny's dress, it was made in the Dunedainic style. She and several elves from Imladris came to the nuptials, not simply as personal friends of the bride and groom, but also because of who Halladan was and the respected family line he came from: they came to honour Halbarad's eldest son as much as Halladan himself. Elrond did not come – he did not travel outside of Imladris much by that time, confining himself to thoughts of sailing West and seeing Celebrian once more – but his sons both did, as much to represent him. The one surprise for Penny was that Eleniel was there, recently arrived in Imladris from Gondor having excused herself from the service of Queen Arwen.

Then came the autumn, and while Imladris did not fall silent, it was never the same again.

The last Penny saw of Gandalf, Bilbo, Elrond, Glorfindel, Mireth, Eleniel, Lindir, Erestor and Celebdor was when Halladan brought her to Imladris in high summer, a month before the exodus, to say her farewells. It was a tearful and distressing few days for her, but she was glad she got the chance to do it. She wished them all well, and even felt brave enough to refer to lost loves to Lindir and Eleniel, hoping they would find them well and marry at last. Many Galadhrim were there, some of whom she recognised, and still others had already made their way across the mountains and headed on to meet Cirdan. Galadriel wished her well and hoped her marriage would be a happy and fruitful one. Celeborn had stayed behind in Lothlorien, his farewells already made.

The atmosphere in Imladris – heady with excitement and sorrow equally mixed, memories walking the corridors along with hopes and dreams of those they would once more meet again – was such that Penny was glad to leave at last. Even so, the depression after Halladan brought her home again was so severe he came close to taking her back to Imladris.

Penny and Halladan had three children survive into adulthood: two sons and a girl. Two others, a boy and a girl, died in infancy, a fact that, for all she knew it was common enough in such a time, understandably distressed Penny greatly. She also insisted upon having every child delivered in Imladris, terrified as she was at the idea of going through such a thing without modern medical assistance being available in the case of any emergency; the elves were, in her mind, the next best thing. The journey there when she was heavily pregnant with child number two, snow on the ground, cuddling her two-and-a-half-year old toddler in front of her as best she could with her huge stomach (since she had point blank refused to leave him behind), and the pair of them wrapped up in Halladan's best fur-lined cloak, was one that would live with her for the rest of her life and such that Halladan very nearly swore he would never make such a journey again with her in that state.

However, it was fortunate on her part that she had so insisted because when her fourth child was delivered she lost a lot of blood immediately afterwards and Halladan knew well enough that had she not been with the elves when it had happened she would have been lost to him. He thanked Elbereth that Elrohir and Elladan had learnt much of a healer's skill from their father. That and elvish 'magic' being what it was there was much that an elf could do that not even a Dunadan healer could achieve, not even one as skilled as Aragorn himself.

It would be wrong to say Halladan and Penny lived 'happily every after.' They were happy enough for most of the time, it is true, but there were inevitably moments when the clash of cultures caused problems. The first occasion being the very next time Halladan returned to Imladris when it occurred to Penny that it might well be an issue that she was not 'virgo intacta' and had a heart to heart with Mireth about it and about whether she should tell Halladan or not. Was it the sort of thing one blurted out to one's betrothed in this society or not? One assumed not, but at the same time would he feel he had a right to know? Could it be a significant enough thing as to put the entire marriage in jeopardy?

Mireth admitted it was important but, having made discreet inquiries by Lindir, discovered that Halladan had long ago heard the 'rumours' that had swept through the elvish camp ("Damn gossipy bloody elves!"), indeed Lindir seemed to think Halladan might well have heard from his father even before then that she came from a society with very different moral standards to their own in that regard.

Even so Penny, awkwardly and flushing with embarrassment, broached the subject with Halladan when they were on one of their walks in the woods. She wondered out loud, apropos of nothing other than a long silence that needed to be broken, if he had heard the rumours about her and, not able to look at her directly all of a sudden, he said that he had. She responded by hoping he knew she wished it were otherwise (which was the truth, since the idea of him being the first really would have been her choice could she have chosen it) and he coughed and said so did he, but he understood how things stood and had long known.

They never referred to it again.

They had their arguments, as all couples will. Some could get very heated, especially as Penny, her confidence growing all the time as she 'found her feet', showed something of the old fiery spirit once more (as well as by then having learnt a few choice phrases in both Westron and Sindarin that would have had Erestor all but frothing at the mouth). On one occasion it got so bad that Halladan stormed out of the house and slept with the horses for a week, only coming into the house to get food and then disappear off again… until he discovered her retching one morning and, when alarmed, forced her to confess she had missed two bleeds in succession and thus suspected she was pregnant with their first child. He was back in the house that very night.

Thus there were inevitably times when he wondered why he had married a woman so different from his own kind, and when she wondered what he saw in her and why it was she had had to land in such a shithole of a place without running water, toilet paper, ready-cooked meals and televisions, but such moods soon passed even if, sometimes, they could take days or weeks to do so.

On the whole, though, they rubbed along tolerably well - he with his gammy leg which would seize up sometimes in winter and her with her gradually improving culinary skills and steep learning curve for everything else. They certainly loved each other, for all their flaws, faults and problems.

Within a few years of their marriage Halladan had been appointed by Aragorn to help Faelon govern Arnor in his stead. From him came the line that even under Aragorn's heirs would ever be the King's lieutenants in the North. Arvain and Hisaeleth had only daughters and thus the line stayed with Halladan and his issue so ensuring that Halbarad's blood ran on through the generations. For a while lieutenants also came through Canion, Faelon's only son, but within two generations that line was lost with the last remaining son and heir of the bloodline dying, childless, in a skirmish on the northern borders where, at that time, every few years or so descendants of the half-orcs would carry out raids into the lowlands from their boltholes in the northern line of the Misty Mountains.

Halladan always said he would never have married anyone but Penny, and would never have married at all but for her. Penny said he was talking nonsense, but who could say? Perhaps that was her fate and her purpose? Only the Valar could know for certain, and perhaps not even they.

Whatever the case, their line lived on as the years rolled by and turned into centuries, the centuries into millennia, and so into Ages. Civilisations rose and fell, lands moved and changed until, in January 2004 a direct descendent of the pair was walking home late one night in rainy London, her hands in her pockets as she ran from the tube, her collar turned up, cursing the fact that she had left her umbrella at the office.

She dived into her flat, sodden and thinking she needed a drink and fast. It had been a fun night, though, she mused, as she peeled off her wet coat and hung it up in the hallway. On her way home from work, on a sudden whim, she had made a detour and gone to see _Return of the King_ for the fourth time. She grinned as she remembered having been able to spot the nipple scene this time. Damn but Viggo was a fine-looking man!

She started to run herself a hot bath, poured herself a glass of white wine from the half-finished bottle in the fridge and then inspected the answer machine.

_Six_ messages?! What the...?!

She took a deep breath. She could guess well enough who most, if not all, of them were from. She warily pressed the 'play' button, all but wincing as she did so.

"_Hi, sweetie, it's Mum." _

She gave out a loud groan and rolled her eyes.

"_Are you in? You should be home from work by now, shouldn't you? Why aren't you answering the phone? Hello? Hellooo-ooo? … Well, clearly you're not there… or else you are and you're listening to me rabbit into this machine. … Hello? Well, if you're not there are you out on a date? Dear God I hope so! Is that it? Is it? Please, tell me it is, sweetie. You would tell me, wouldn't you? I've not heard from you in ages, love. It's been at least a week_..."

"More like three days."

"…_anyway, I am just phoning to say I've posted you a lasagne_…"

"What?! Is she insane?!"

"…_you never eat properly. You need to feed yourself up if you want to get a man_…"

There was a second groan and the sound of a glass being refilled.

"…_Mrs Shaw from my gym says her sister's son is a very nice young man, about your age - training to be an accountant, apparently. I can get you the nu—_"

She pressed the fast forward button.

"…_but of course I said to her that she should have nothing to do with it, but would she listen? No, of c_—"

Aha, apparently she had been cut off in mid-flow. And the second message would be…?

"_Hello? I don't think your answer phone is working properly, love, it cut me off in the middle. Now where was I? Oh, yes, well she's a law unto herself, you know, but mind you_…"

"Oh, for God's sake, Mum, can't you find someone else's answer phone to clag up!?"

She wandered off to the bath, letting her mother prattle on to an empty sitting-room.

Ah, this was the life, she thought as she slid into the bubbles, glass of wine resting on the closed lid of the loo, and lay back. Hot water, bubbles, wine and, admittedly, Mum melting the answer machine with her umpteen messages of inanity, but even so: lovely!

A little later, as she resurfaced from the water, her mother was onto the fourth message of the evening, this time bemoaning the fact that her brother had failed his driving test for the fifth time and could she perhaps see her way to giving him some extra lessons.

"Not bloody likely," she muttered.

"…_and he was thinking he might be able to borrow your car once or twice a week, just for practice, love – what do you think?_..."

"I think he can go screw himself, Mum, that's what I think. After what he did to your car last year, he's having a laugh if he thinks I'm letting him anywhere near mine, the git."

Later, Mother's endless wittering wiped from the machine at long last, and wrapped in a huge fluffy dressing-gown, dressed in her favourite PJs and Garfield slippers, she sat down at her laptop armed with a third glass of wine and a microwave chicken chasseur. She scrolled through the fanfic for a while and eventually, after despairing of the reams and reams of Legolas smut and raising eyebrows at various pairings she stumbled across, she sought refuge and sanity in amongst the Silmarillion fic for a while before deciding to call it a night. After all, she did have work tomorrow.

She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Maybe it was three glasses of wine before bed, or maybe it was the chicken chasseur repeating on her, but whatever it was she was soon having a highly entertaining and vivid dream. Not just any old dream, either, but the sort that you react to as you sleep, that stays with you for years afterwards in glorious Technicolor.

Yes, this was a good dream...

_Roxanna opened her eyes and found herself staring at a clear blue sky. The sun was shining, the birds were singing in the nearby forest. She sat up and looked around herself. She beamed._

_On the other side of the nearby river she could see delicately carved buildings that shone brilliantly in the sunshine. She gasped in wonder. She recognised it immediately as Rivendell, home of Elrond (that bloke who looked exactly like the one from that computer film with Keanu Reeves in it). She closed her eyes and opened them again. No, she was not dreaming: she was really here. Here, in Middle Earth, by some wonderful miracle._

_This was her destiny. Aged fourteen and with perfect skin, teeth and nose, she knew she was meant to be here. Her pointy ears had always meant she was picked on at school but here things would be different. She would fall in love with Legolas and the entire Fellowship would fall in love with her. She would save Boromir, warn them about the Balrog, perhaps persuade Theoden not to fight and die in battle._

_She heard the sound of hooves and turned, smiling, to see two horses approaching. One had a tall man atop its saddle who was unkempt in appearance but stunningly good-looking underneath his stubble. The other horse, also with a saddle and bridle, carried an even taller figure with long flowing blonde hair and behind him sat a short squat bearded man in a helmet._

_She beamed again, flashing those perfect teeth at them. "Hello there, Aragorn! Legolas! Gimli! Wow, it's really great to see you guys, you know!"_

_They stopped their mounts and descended, eyeing her warily. Aragorn spoke. "What are you doing here? You are young to be wandering unaccompanied in these parts."_

"_Ah, but Aragorn, you gorgeous hunk you," she grinned, "I am Elrond's long lost niece."_

_Aragorn smiled._

_Legolas smiled._

_Gimli smiled._

_Roxanna suddenly felt slightly nervous._

_The man, elf and dwarf exchanged a look. "What do you think?" asked Gimli._

_Legolas shook his head. "No doubt about it."_

_Aragorn nodded. "My sentiments exactly." He drew his sword. "Die, Oh Mary-Sue, spawn of Morgoth!"_

_Roxanna's head flew several yards before it rolled into a hollow._

There was a snort of laughter from Penny as she turned over in her sleep. Yes, this was a very good dream. She could still smell the fresh air and sense the fresh outdoors even now. She could feel herself waking up but in that half-dream state where the line between fantasy and reality is blurred.

This was terribly vivid, though. She could even feel a drizzle on her face. She rolled over and as she did so, her cheek hit something wet and cold. She sat bolt upright in shock and her eyes wide open. She looked around her... and started screaming.

THE END

* * *

Author's Notes:

Yes, that's it, folks! Wow, feels really odd to have typed 'the end' up there, and know that, yeah, it's finally come to an end at long (long, LONG) last. It had to come to an end sooner or later, though, and it was always my intention to end it here plot-wise. I've always felt slightly guilty reading comments and reviews saying how much people were looking forward to my detailing Penny's new life amongst the Dunedain because I knew I would never get that far. The story arc for this was always that she would go from 'up in the air and not knowing how or where to move forward' to 'finding her place within Middle-earth'. Combined with that were the arcs of her discovering the truth (realism) of war and facing her own sense of guilt regarding that and any distress, grief, etc, that that uncovered, as well as the arc of Halladan/Penny, of course. ;) All three (I hope) combined into one, and all three have come to their end and, therefore, so does this fic.

I could have carried on almost indefinitely in some ways, I know, or rather I know some readers would have been happy for me to do so, but a story has to have its beginning, middle and end for it to have any chance of working at all. I know that, no matter where I had chosen to end it, there would have been some readers left champing at the bit and yelling 'No, not there! Not now! Not yet!' and to all those who are currently so yelling: I'm really sorry.

That said, while there will be no third fic (this is not a trilogy), there _will_ be a spot created for various drabbles, scenes, one-shots and ficlets all pertaining to these characters – their pasts and their futures. My time is limited, as has been obvious from the painfully slow arrival of chapters over the past year or so (again – apologies for that), thus a whole new fic is out of the question, but the odd little something as and when the writing bug hits would be ideal. No guarantees as to what (if anything) will appear, or its frequency, but just to say it will be there. There are some scenes in my head – ones that informed character choices in the fic but had not place within it (such as Halladan and Elrond, or Halladan being told by Arvain he was a prize maroon), for example, or future scenarios (I have one with Penny and a heap of geese at some point), and possible ideas for things like Lindir and his brother, or even young Lindir and Rhimlath. These are all the kind of things that could possibly be written out and plonked there. (After asking for suggestions for a title having got stuck on one not very good one myself, voting is now taking place on a 'shortlist' of six possibles on my LiveJournal if you want to chip in. If you don't have an LJ, you can vote via a comment.)

You will also note I have not 'explained' Penny's falling into Middle-earth. Ultimately both these fics have been (mostly) from her POV and even were they from others' POV as well, no one from among the characters knows how or why it happened – so it would be truly 'narrator descending into the story' to come up with an explanation. Not only that but any explanation I could suggest, while it might seem acceptable to some, would be deemed as utterly preposterous by others and thus the entire delicate façade of 'willing suspension of disbelief' would crumble into dust. Best left unexplained, IMHO, though you may agree to differ, and you may indeed like to offer your suggestions as to what REALLY happened. Various of you have made such suggestions over the years. The one of it all being the nefarious work of Saruman and perhaps there were others who had 'fallen back in time' around the place was quite an interesting one, and one that could certainly be made to fit within canon (though not sure Maia would have such power and skill as to pull people back in time – really something only a Vala could achieve, and perhaps not even they). If you're a Doctor Who fan, then perhaps one could claim Penny was visited by the stone angels in the night (DON'T BLINK!)? Who can say? I'll leave that one to your imaginations. :)

And, yes, she DID fall back through time. When Tolkien set out his vision he was thinking in terms of the myths and legends of the Greeks or Norsemen. If you read HoME you will find that the hobbits' 'Red Book' came into the possession of the elves (or one copy, anyway) who in turn handed it on to an Anglo-Saxon gentleman and it was that copy which was 'translated' into English: a fictional backstory and history for a fictional story. This is the beauty of Tolkien, the depths to which he went in creating his world. Of course we KNOW in reality no such things happened, but the same is true of any fictionalised world placed within our own or connected to it. The world isn't really made up of a computerised 'matrix', there is no such place as Hogwart's, etc, etc. The point is that JRRT's own canon was that all that he had invented was a mythological 'pre-history' to our own time, thus anyone arriving there to discover it was true would have to realise that they had gone back in time, not slipped through to another dimension. JRRT was writing about 'the land that would become England, UK' (only thousands of years previously), not a different, alien planet or place.

In the meantime, though, I want to take this last opportunity to thank every single person who has read this fic and 'Don't Panic!', who has commented, reviewed, critted, recced the fics to others, friended me on LJ or Yuku, got in touch, PMed or e-mailed. I have been utterly overwhelmed by the response these two fics have got over the years and really don't quite know what to say about it all other than 'thank you' and please know that I mean it. It took me utterly by surprise that so many have enjoyed this fic and I am still not quite sure I can believe it frankly. In particular I want to thank those who stuck it out through the long hiatus between chapter 5 and 6 on this fic, lol, let alone those who braved reading the ENTIRE thing from the get-go once this fic was already umpteen chapters long: brave souls all.

My especial thanks, however, must go to those who have spotted typos and errors, and, of course, to the various betas I have had for this fic over the long period it's been written: bodldops who beta-ed for me before The Hiatus of Doom, NL who was my indefatigable 'canon beta' before he decided to get a life and train to be a doctor and became too busy, Mums who has stuck with me through thick and thin from the very beginning and who has been such a source of encouragement and gentle support (as well as teaching me heaps about How To Use The Comma), and lastly, but by no means least, the incomparable Elb, without whom, frankly, none of this would have been possible, because it's thanks to her I caught the fanfic bug, thanks to her that I rediscovered my long dormant writing Mojo, and thanks to her that I've stuck with this. I could never post a chapter without her okaying it first. She has been a good friend and a trooper and my knight in shining armour. All hail, The Elb.

And, lastly lastly: Viv. Many thanks to Viv, for it was her challenge on Open Scrolls Archive all those many moons ago that made the bunny bite… and then hang on like grim death until I had got down the entire sorry saga that was playing incessantly in my head or else go insane trying. Thank you, Viv, and thanks to you all.

HUGS!


End file.
